


Oh, We're In Love, Aren't We?

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Falling In Love, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Left at the Altar, M/M, adulthood idiots, failed weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-20 12:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14894991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: After sixteen wonderful years of friendship, it's hard to imagine any grand (and usually dumb) plans they haven't had or some type of mischief they haven't gotten into together. But, when Harry suddenly finds himself without a fiance and Louis just wants to help him feel okay again, they realize falling in love is one thing they haven't done, and that's about to change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fadedtoblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedtoblack/gifts).



Summer 2002

They were bound to get caught. Louis was sure of it the moment he settled down on the strongest tree branch within climbing distance and then peered down through the thinner branches to find Harry still on the ground fussing over their supplies.

“What are you doing?” Louis had asked as loud as he dared so late at night. Both of them should’ve been in bed. Their parents would’ve probably killed them if they found out they weren’t. But, everyone was asleep as far as Louis knew, he and Harry were starving, and the big tree behind his best friend’s house had always been the perfect place to eat snacks they didn’t want to share with their siblings. And also, sneaking out to climb it together was just plain fun.

“The marshmallows are going to fall out!” Harry claimed, pointlessly squishing them deeper inside the tin pail attached to the rope pulley system they spent the whole first day of holiday constructing.

“No, they won’t,” Louis rolled his eyes. “I put them in there myself.” Louis also stole them himself. Straight out of his mother’s pantry along with a whole container of freshly baked brownies and a carton of apple juice he hoped no one in his house would miss. “ _Hurry up_!”

He had thought about climbing down to _push_ Harry up the tree himself when he frowned up at Louis after making the executive decision to place the graham crackers and chocolate bars he ‘borrowed’ on top of everything to keep it all in place. “ _Don’t tell me what to do,_ ” he hissed back before starting his very slow and very uncoordinated ascent to come join him. It reminded Louis of the sloths they learned about in school and made him laugh. Harry’s head full of dark curls didn’t exactly help the likeness.

“Finally,” Louis smirked when Harry reached his branch and swung himself up on it with surprising ease for a baby sloth look-a-like. “I think I almost fell asleep up here.”

“You did not,” Harry said playfully shoving him in the shoulder. “Now, shut up and help me get the food.”

“Now who’s being bossy?” Louis muttered before assisting his friend with the tied-off rope to hoist their midnight feast up to their level.

 

Spring – Present Day

Thinking back on that night always puts a grin on Louis’ face. The two of them up there in that tree where they had no business, having fun doing nothing. Just being kids. It all ended in a trip to the hospital after Louis fell out of said tree and broke his arm, so that certainly dampened things a bit. And later, he and Harry were both grounded for the rest of eternity for sneaking out so late in the first place, but to this day, it remains one of his favorite memories ever. Louis has been revisiting it for years. Going back in time to when their biggest concerns in life were not waking up their parents, ensuring the safety of their marshmallows, and things were just easy. Not like now. Not like tonight.

A lot has changed since then. For starters, they’re much older now so late-night tree climbing is usually kept to a minimum. That increase in age has matured not only their sense of fun, but also their taste in snacks so their diet is no longer comprised entirely of sugar and contains a lot of tequila. They still disagree at times, and even though Harry finally hit a massive growth spurt around the age of sixteen making _him_ the tall one, Louis still finds himself trying to tell his best friend what to do, and then fondly rolling his eyes when Harry kindly tells him to fuck off.

Time has made them into adults, and over the years, they’ve seen each other through everything life has handed them. Good times and bad. Happy days and heartbreaks, and even deaths on a couple of unthinkable occasions. They aren’t kids anymore. It’s a revelation that takes Louis by surprise each time he’s forced to acknowledge it, though he’s pretty sure nothing has made that fact clearer than Harry’s entire world imploding just a few hours ago. After witnessing a disaster like that, it’s no wonder Louis’ mind wandered back to their old tree. Who wouldn’t rather be there than here, surrounded by flowers in the middle of a deserted ballroom wearing a necktie and a stiff black suit for no reason at all since apparently, there _isn’t_ going to be a wedding today.

The heavy double doors of the ballroom swing open and shut, pulling Louis’ attention away from the place card with his name and title of best man printed on it in gold right next to the beautiful floral table setting reserved for the future Mr. and Mr. Henry.

If Harry can find any kind of silver lining in being left at the altar an hour before ‘I do’, it’s dodging the bullet of being called Harry Henry for the rest of his fucking life.

“Did you talk to him?” he hears his friend Niall ask as a pair of high heels clack all the way from the double doors to the center of the ballroom where all that remains of the wedding party is standing. As of now, that only includes a few people: Louis and his date, William, he’s known for a grand total of a week, Harry’s other two groomsmen slash best friends Liam and Niall, and the members of Harry’s immediate family. Everybody else in the wedding party, the other, lesser half of it anyway, split almost as quickly as their dickhead groom did, anxious to get away after he got cold feet at the last possible minute and fled.

“No, he still won’t come out,” Harry’s mother sniffs. She hasn’t stopped crying since she saw Harry this morning all done up in his tux. Those were tears of joy though. Not like the big fat ones currently falling from her eyes and choking off her air with each new sob. “I just don’t know what else to do,” she cries behind him. “He’s turned off his phone and hasn’t said a word in hours. My baby’s up there in that suite all alone and he refuses to open the door for anybody. Not even for _me_.”

Louis turns from the main table to watch everybody move to surround her and offer her words of comfort even though neither of them has had any luck in getting Harry to come out either.

“Maybe we can ask someone from hotel management to go up and just check on him?” Liam whispers only for Niall to veto the idea straightaway.

“He’s not falling for that. He wouldn’t even speak to his planner about what to do with all _this_ stuff,” he says, glancing around the beautiful reception Harry spent months designing.

“ _I_ could always go up there again,” Harry’s sister, Gemma, suggests still fuming about this whole fiasco at her mother’s side. However, she hasn’t made any new death threats involving Harry’s arsehole of an ex-fiancé in the last hour or so, so that’s progress. “I know he’s upset. I can’t imagine how he must be feeling after being broken up with like this, but Mr. Stubborn has to come out of there eventually.”  

On the contrary. That honeymoon suite Mr. Stubborn has locked himself in has been paid for in full. Technically, he could hide out up there for days.

“I’ll go.”

Everybody turns at the sound of Louis’ voice, blinking in surprise because it’s the first time they’ve heard it in a while. Once the wedding was officially called off, everybody jumped up to go try and make Harry feel better about it. Everybody except Louis who knew better than to think anything he could say or do could take away the pain and embarrassment burning in Harry’s eyes before he took off.

Louis shrugs off the uncomfortable jacket he should’ve ditched hours ago and grabs two bottles of the pre-chilled champagne they never got to pop, now floating around in a tub of lukewarm water. He spares a deeply apologetic glance at his date whom he honestly forgot about until now and promises to call him tomorrow before doubling back to snatch up one more bottle of champagne. Just to be on the safe side.

It’s sixteen floors up to the honeymoon suite. One would think that would be more than enough time for Louis to come up with something poignant to say to his best friend on what has to be the worst day of his life, but no. He’s got nothing when he arrives at Harry’s door and leans back against it.

“Haz? It’s me, mate. Open up,” he says seemingly to no one at all since he gets nothing in response. In all honesty, he should’ve known taking that sympathetic tone with him wouldn’t work since it hasn’t for everyone else who has tried it tonight. “Harry, come on, love. Just open the door,” he sighs. “You know as well as I do that I’m not here to feed you bullshit lines about fate or things happening for a reason or whatever else people pull out of their arses for when things go to shit. I just need to make sure that my best friend’s okay, alright? That’s all. So, open up.”

Trying to level with him doesn’t go much better than the coddling did. Louis strains his ears for any signs of movement after his big speech and hears none. Seconds pass without so much as a peep so Louis tries a different approach.  

“I’ve got booze,” Louis informs the door behind him, grinning in triumph when the lock finally clicks. He rights himself just as the door creaks open, almost hoping to see the same vexing, curly-headed little boy from the tree he was reminiscing about earlier, but instead it’s just regular, adult-age Harry leaned against the threshold. He’s still every bit as lovely and endearing at twenty-four as he was at age eight, only now his cheeks aren’t quite as round, there’s a diamond ring still sparkling on his finger, and instead of being preoccupied with marshmallows and a tin pail, he’s got a near-empty bottle of Cristal clutched in his grip like a lifeline. Which, that was quick.

“Oh. Er- _Wow_. There you are,” Louis says, pasting on a grin as he takes in his friend’s appearance. He looks like hell which, frankly speaking, no one can really judge him for at a time like this. His jacket, boutonnière, and fancy cufflinks are all missing from his ensemble making him look uncharacteristically disheveled in a fluffy white bath robe draped over the same pair trousers as before, and oddly enough, _one_ shoe. There are no rules for getting dumped on your wedding day he supposes, so Harry can wear or not wear whatever he likes. Louis’ just glad he finally opened the bloody door.

“You look… _comfy_. And, uh, that’s a nice, rather _large_ bottle of champagne you’ve got there,” he says with as much humor as he dares right now with Harry eyeing him so dangerously. “ _Right_. Well, I see you’ve, uh, already made a small dent in it, but don’t worry because there’s plenty more where that came from. You know, in case that first whole bottle you downed didn’t quite hit the spot?”

Louis isn’t exactly holding his breath for a laugh but he did kind of hope to inspire a dramatic eye roll of some kind or at the very least a stubborn grin to lighten the mood. However, he gets neither of those things when Harry releases a shaky exhale and his bottom lip gives a foreboding tremble the way it does every time Allie and Noah die together in The Notebook.

“ _Oh, shit_. Haz, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries, but Harry’s red-rimmed eyes begin to fill faster than Louis can apologize, and then suddenly the flood gates open, making it almost impossible for Harry to hear him anyway. “Fuck. Alright. Come here, you. It was a bad joke. An entire bottle of champagne is _highly_ impressive and Evan’s such a dick,” Louis whispers, pulling Harry into his arms to get spit, tears, and snot all over the shirt he’s probably going to have to burn now, but, what else are friends for?

*

There’s a half-eaten tier of wedding cake and four empty bottles of Cristal surrounding them by the time Louis looks over at the clock and realizes it’s been hours since he’s had to wipe tears from his best friend’s face. Well, he guesses that’s not entirely true. There were those giant glistening tears from earlier that rushed down both of their cheeks when they tried toasting to dodging bullets out on the balcony and just ended up cackling when their glasses shattered rather than making the delicate clinking sound they were going for. Champagne went gushing everywhere, Louis cut himself on a piece of glass trying to clean it up, and Harry laughed so hard he fell over on the lounge chair.

Another high point in the evening was them eating their weight in complimentary chocolate-covered fruit from room service while watching the only film worthy enough to celebrate the catastrophic crash and burn of Harry’s engagement; Bridesmaids. One, because it’s an ironic choice just like the romantic king-sized bed they’re lounging in amongst the ten-zillion rose petals it took to artfully cover it. Two, because Kristen Wiig is and always will be their favorite comedian _ever_ , and three, because if anybody deserves to cackle until he cries and his stomach aches, it’s Harry. Even if it is over the thought of someone getting so sick with food poisoning they’re forced to take a shit in the middle of a street.

The movie ended a while ago so it’s much quieter now, but Harry’s face is still lit up with a smile, the corners of it pushing at his dimpled cheeks until his eyes are as crinkled as the worthless marriage license form lying balled up on the bedside table. Louis wishes he could burn it. There are certainly enough candles in this suite to make it happen, however after all they’ve had to drink neither of them is in any capacity to manage open flames. Louis could barely even walk in a straight line to go pee earlier and there was a path of rose petals on the ground to fucking lead him there.

“What?” Louis snorts across his pillow and Harry’s to where something must be amusing him besides that time last year when Niall had his own Bridesmaids-esque food poisoning experience. Or perhaps not Louis thinks as he watches his friend’s smile fade to nothing but a tiny grin that feels off somehow. Like there’s something heavy on his mind that weighs more than the fond memories they were just giggling about.

“Haz? What is it?” he asks, his own smile fading when Harry picks up one of the beautiful rose petals between them and squeezes it between his thumb and index finger until it withers and bleeds.

“It’s just- I really thought this was going to be _it_ , you know? I was so excited for Evan to be it. I thought we’d love each other, grow old, and spend the rest of our lives together,” he chuckles darkly, shaking his head at himself before rolling his misty green eyes up towards the ceiling. “What a dumb dream.”

Hearing him say things like that hurts almost as much as watching him fight the wave of fresh tears threatening to spill over at any moment. Louis quickly reaches over and thumbs them away before they can slip into his hairline.

“It’s _not_ dumb,” Louis assures him, giving Harry’s shoulder a firm squeeze so he believes it too. His best friend has always had the purest heart in the world and Louis refuses to see it turn jaded and cold because of some arsehole who didn’t deserve him anyway. “And you’re not dumb for wanting that either. _He’s_ the idiot for not realizing how wonderful you are and he’s going to spend the rest of his miserable life hating himself for it. That, I can promise you, babe. _He_ loses out in this situation, Haz. Not you.”

The tears start flowing fast after that but Louis’ sure that would’ve been the case no matter what he said. “Come here,” he whispers, tugging at his best friend’s shoulder until he’s tucked right under Louis’ chin. There are no words to stop the choking sobs shaking them each time Harry breathes so Louis simply holds him, shushing him as he gently combs through the back of his hair. “I’ve got you. Let it all out.”

Louis keeps telling him that until the sobs stop and Harry’s breathing slows to normal again. He can feel every puff of damp air leave Harry’s lungs and float across his skin, making him chuckle when Harry tries to nuzzle closer and his lips tickle against Louis’ neck.

“I know I’m amazingly comfy, but you do know I’m not an _actual_ pillow, right?” he teases, squirming to get away when he feels Harry’s lips purse and drop a deliberate kiss over his adam’s apple. He does it again below his left ear and then just beneath his jaw, cupping Louis’ face with one hand to keep him still while he noses at the blanket of goosebumps budding to life under his influence.

“A-Alright. I really love you too, but it’s getting slightly weird now,” he laughs even though he kind of means it. True, this isn’t the first time Harry has gotten flirty-drunk and decided to shower him with affection just to be annoying, but for some reason this doesn’t quite feel like that. This is sensual in a way that has Louis frowning at the fluttery sensation he feels in his stomach each time Harry kisses him someplace new, and then suddenly, they’re mouth to mouth and Louis can taste every drop of champagne still soaking Harry’s tongue.

Louis’ body reacts much faster than his sluggish brain does, instantly pulling back from his friend as if he’s been burned. Harry isn’t discouraged by it and he doesn’t look sorry either as he surges forward for kiss number two which Louis manages to block with a firm hand to his chest.

He searches the pair of emerald eyes before him finding so many variations of heartache and pain in their depths that it’s a wonder Harry can stand it all. But, the longer Louis stares at his friend to try and figure out what the hell’s going on inside his head, he finds a desire there too. One that Louis has never seen in all the years they’ve known each other. Not directed at _him_ anyway.

“Please?” he whispers before sneaking in another soft slide of their lips that Louis allows and makes him forget how weird it is hearing Harry beg him for something like this. “Please, Lou. Just for tonight.”

He means to say no and tell Harry how big of a mistake this all is but he finds that he can’t. Not with Harry looking so sure, and not on the day he was already handed the single biggest rejection of his life. It’s the whole reason Louis wanted to be here for him in the first place. And, if this is how Harry needs him right now then he’ll do it.

“Okay,” he agrees, and Louis’ mouth is roughly captured again as soon as the word leaves his lips, but this time he kisses back.

If he pretends it’s not Harry clinging to him, then it doesn’t feel all that strange rolling them until Louis’ on top to chase the bitter-sweet taste of his mouth. He ends up settled between Harry’s legs, ignoring the panicked feeling in his gut when Harry grinds up against him and starts untying the drawstring of the borrowed joggers slung around his hips.

Louis’ body responds like it’s normal to have Harry’s hand creep past his waistband and wrap around his dick. But, friend or not, he can’t pretend it doesn’t feel good being touched.

“H-Haz, maybe this is a dumb idea. Y-You don’t want _this_. _Me_ ,” he stutters out, feeling himself grow harder and more worried that they’re ruining everything each time they take it a step further. Louis’ not even sure what he means. At this point, a line has clearly already been crossed, but it felt like the right thing to say. Harry doesn’t acknowledge his warning of course, just as stubborn as ever as he slowly pulls Louis off between them while staring him right in the eyes.

“It’s not and I do.” It is and he doesn’t, but Louis doesn’t try telling him so again when he never listens anyway.

He’s almost certain this is a huge regret in the making when they resume their kiss and he lets himself get so hard that it’s painful having nothing but Harry’s hand. He supposes this truly is happening and stops trying to make sense of it as their clothes end up tossed over the side of the bed and Harry’s naked skin brushes over his. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before after sixteen years of skinny dipping, sleepovers, and stupid dares, but it’s a much different experience this time around seeing him hard and having permission to touch.

Louis is left reeling and clinging onto nothing when Harry pushes him away to go fumble through his overnight bag. He soon returns with his fingers dripping wet with lube and wastes no time lying back against the pillows to open himself up.

It’s like some kind of fever dream once he’s done and Louis inches closer to him as he would with anybody else opening their legs in invitation this way. He moves on autopilot, pushing Harry’s knees back enough for him to comfortably kneel and line himself up with his heartbeat racing and thudding in his ears.

“Are you sure? Like, _sure_ , sure?” he checks.

They could hit pause right now and there’d be nothing major changed between them. This could all be chalked up to an emotional night of drunken almost-sex between friends, but that illusion is shattered the moment Harry reaches down and grabs Louis’ dick himself to close that final distance between them.

*

Louis was hoping – _no_. Praying for a strong case of alcohol-induced dream delirium when he wakes up with a scarily vivid recollection of scenes from the night before. Either that, or just a good old fashioned blackout to wipe his memories clean of all of it. Nothing too serious, of course. Just a bit of fog and haze. Anything to blur the intimate dirty details of him fucking his best friend into his mattress until they both came all over it.

This is not good. It’s the complete opposite of good, Harry’s going to murder him, and honestly, Louis deserves it. He’s the oldest. He was supposed to be the responsible one. And now, he’s going to be smothered to death with a pillow or tossed off the sixteenth floor of this hotel all because his inner voice of reason was drowned in an ocean of champagne last night and convinced his dick that Harry’s bum might be a nice place to hang out for a bit.   

Waking him would be suicide so he lies as still as humanly possible in bed with his eyes shut tight, just waiting for the pain he’s about to receive when Harry wakes up too. Just waiting for the agony of having his best friend hate him forever.

“I can tell you’re not sleeping anymore,” a voice says from across the room. “You stopped snoring a whole five minutes ago.”

Louis winces as he sits up much too quickly finding Harry getting dressed near the foot of the bed rather than lying in it beside him. “ _I do not snore_ ,” Louis groans as he holds his head in his hands. He’s able to peek through his fingers once the rapid pounding behind his eyes stops, catching sight of Harry fastening the last few buttons of his shirt and fondly rolling his eyes at Louis’ insistence on the matter.

“ _Right_. Because all those gurgling monster truck noises I’ve been listening to all these years are just figments of my imagination. Silly me.”

Any other time, Louis would go off on a highly-detailed explanation of how some people simply breathe a little heavier than others. But, believe it or not, his sleep reputation he’s been defending since their very first sleepover ever isn’t his biggest concern right now. The fact that they somehow had sex last night is.

He wonders what those two kids from the old tree would think about _that._

“Harry?” Louis ends up cradling his head again, but he thinks most of the pain he feels is guilt-related. “I- I don’t know what to say. I’m so, so sorry.” An apology is probably the best place to start, even though it seems Harry wants nothing at all to do with it. He pauses where he’s shoving his feet into his favorite pair of boots and blinks up at Louis in confusion.

“Why’s that?” he asks.

“Uh…” Now Louis is the one who is confused, wondering if it really was just a dream after all. “I was referring to the sex we had? Last night? With each other?”

“Oh. That,” he answers letting Louis know what happened last night was as real as the guilt he feels taking over his entire chest when he echoes a muttered ‘ _Yeah. That_.’ Harry’s brow slightly furrows before his expression evens out again and he gives an unbothered shrug. “It’s cool. It’s not like it’s a big deal,” he assures him. “And besides, it was technically my idea anyway so you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Louis and his penis would beg to fucking differ. He stares at Harry for a long time trying to find a crack in his armor. He still looks like shit after spending the majority of the day yesterday in tears, and he’s obviously doing his best to push through the pain of the hangover from hell, but regret? Louis can’t seem to detect even a trace of it.

“I called down for some breakfast,” Harry informs him with a nod over at the tray of food next to the bed that Louis hadn’t even noticed. “You were snoring pretty good so I didn’t wake you, but the eggs are amazing. So is the French toast.”

It all looks and smells delicious.

“Thanks. Where are you going?”

“Oh. Uh, I finally turned my phone back on,” he says with a weary sort of sigh. “My wedding planner has been calling nonstop since yesterday so I need to go deal with all that stuff. I think I can get a few deposits back and I need to talk to Evan about the rings. Figure out how we’re going to do this.”

Louis can’t imagine. “Then, I’ll come with you. You shouldn’t be by yourself,” he offers, already throwing back the sheets to tag along, but Harry doesn’t seem to want to take him up on it.

“No, you stay and eat. Please. I think I’ll be okay for the most part. I just- This is something I need to do myself, but thanks, Lou. Really. You’re seriously the best.”

Just like last night, Louis doesn’t really know what to say as he nods in understanding.

“Alright. Um, then I guess I’ll just eat a few bites and get out of your hair.”

“No, stay if you want. I’ll be back in a bit. We haven’t discussed the flat yet, so I’m just gonna be here for now. It’s easier.”

“I really am sorry, Haz.” Louis isn’t sure if he means he’s sorry about the sex or his best friend’s relationship ending this way with him left to pick up all the pieces. It’s possible he means both.

Harry rolls his eyes at him again before grabbing his wallet from the bedside table. “Thanks, but I already told you, don’t be,” he grins, his gaze briefly catching on the expanse of bare golden skin now visible from before when Louis offered to go with him. “You might want to put that thing away. It’s amazing, but also kind of dangerous if memory serves.”

Harry laughs as Louis’ cheeks flush red and he pulls the sheets tighter over his lap. Louis doesn’t want to laugh with him, but he finds it almost impossible not to at least crack a smile.

“So, we’re really okay then?” he checks when Harry crosses the room to leave. “We’re alright. We’re still friends and there’s no hard feelings?”

Harry’s eyes soften as a fond grin tugs at his lips.

“You really thought something like this would stop us from being friends?” Louis blushes again, offering Harry a small shrug because, yes, he really did. “You’ve been my best friend my whole life. I think it’s going to take a bit more than seeing each other’s O faces to get rid of me.”

Louis rolls his eyes at the memory and the dumb smirk on Harry’s face. “You’re disgusting. Get out.”

“Love you! Think of me!” he cackles as the suite door shuts behind him.

Louis has no choice but to think of him with his scent still clinging to Louis’ skin and their rumpled sex sheets. And then there’s the dried stains of sweat and come he’s been sitting in this whole time, which wouldn’t ordinarily gross him out being that said sweat and come are his own, but mixed in with _Harry’s_? Yeah, there’s no way in hell he’s staying here. He has to go. Well, first he’s gonna eat his French toast of course because it smells divine, but _then_ he’s out.

After much begging, Niall agrees to come back to the hotel to pick him up, watching Louis crawl into the back seat of the car like a miserable, hungover slug and just lie there.

“Jesus. Did you two try and drink _everything_ from the reception?” he asks once they pull onto the street.

“Pretty much,” Louis groans, closing his eyes against the bright sun beaming in on him.

“Well, you look and smell-”

“Daisy fresh?”

“Like shit,” Niall corrects him as he rolls down all four windows of his car. “But, either way I’m glad you were there for him. I don’t know what you said or did to get through to him last night, but it’s a good thing he had you, Lou. I think he really needed his best friend.” He doesn’t say anything else or ask for details about his and Harry’s evening, and yet, Louis can’t stop himself from confiding in _someone_.

“So…we sort of had sex,” he says, his words ending in a pained whimper when Niall slams on breaks and sends him tumbling straight to the floor. Louis crawls into the back seat again, feeling a pair of grey eyes gawking at him in the rearview mirror as if he said he fucked a walrus.

“You _what_?”


	2. Chapter 2

They were so focused on sneaking out of their houses that they didn’t even think to bring something out there to see with. All they had was a bunch of stolen food (mostly sweets), an old tin pail they rigged up as a pulley, and the light from the moon and stars above them. Harry had hardly given it a second’s thought before saying yes when Louis tapped on his bedroom window to recruit him for a late-night adventure. Probably not the smartest plan they ever had since their parents would’ve murdered them if they knew, but the risk was worth it. It always was when it came to his best friend… even with him sighing down at Harry from half-way up the tree that he was too impatient to climb together as always because he could do it in under half the time it took Harry which was pretty amazing and cool, but still. _Show off._

“What are you doing?”

Harry rolled his eyes, not even looking up at his friend as he carefully rearranged their snacks so they’d all make it up the tree in one piece. “The marshmallows are going to fall out,” he explained at a mid-volume whisper from fear of waking someone inside his house.

“No _,_ they won’t. I put them in there myself,” Louis proudly boasted. As if his involvement was supposed to mean something. Louis volunteering to load up the snacks was precisely why Harry took the time to go behind him and double check them. And it was a good thing too, because their marshmallows were basically hanging on by a thread. “Hurry up!” Louis said in that bossy tone that made Harry want to reach up and yank him down by his ankle regardless of him being the oldest by a year and a half.

“ _Don’t tell me what to do.”_

Harry could hear Louis chuckling to himself and letting out a giant fake yawn as Harry concentrated on using the exact footing as him to make his way up the tree too, feeling immeasurably proud of himself when he swung his leg over his target branch with an ease that surprised even himself.

“ _Finally_. I think I almost fell asleep up here,” he smirked which would’ve been rude and annoying had it come from someone else, but with Louis it just made Harry smile because he knew it was a compliment in disguise.

*****

Harry wakes up with a smile on his face just as big as the one he wore that night all those years ago. He hasn’t dreamt about it in a while. The two of them up to no good in the middle of the night because of Louis’ massive sweet tooth and Harry’s inability to turn down the chance to hang out with his best friend. It was over sixteen years ago and that night still ranks as one of Harry’s favorite of all time. Of course, he ended up with a massive tummy ache after consuming so many marshmallows in one sitting, Louis broke his arm after a nasty fall, and they weren’t allowed to see each other outside of school for a whole week, but he wouldn’t change it. Not for anything.

He has no idea what made him think of all that. It could be that his nap ran long so he’s got food on the brain so close to lunchtime. Or, it could be that ever since his non-wedding a couple of weeks ago, he hasn’t seen much of his best friend and Harry has truly started to miss the idiot.

Harry reaches out for his phone, grabbing nothing but air when his hand lands on the other side of his mattress instead of his bedside table. That’s been happening a lot lately. Him shifting around in bed in his sleep now that he has the whole thing to himself after almost two years of sharing. It was a lonely sort of feeling at first, but now Harry has started to like all the extra room and the newfound freedom that comes with it. He scoots over to his previously designated side of the bed– the _left_ side– and checks his phone for any missed notifications. There are a few. A call from his mother who hasn’t stopped ringing him at least twice per day since the whole ordeal, a text from Liam about going to the gym later, and several hilarious snapchats from Niall, but once again, nothing from Louis.

He’s not sure why he feels so disappointed by that when they saw each other just last week when he came over with Liam and Niall to help pack up the rest of Evan’s stuff. They were together again that weekend when they went out for a lads night to celebrate Harry’s brand new start, and they all had dinner here at Harry’s flat a few nights ago so it’s not like they’ve been avoiding each other per se. Louis has been here for him every step of the way. Harry has just noticed he’s been minding his distance a bit ever since that night at the hotel. And strangely enough they haven’t been alone together since then either. He’s starting to get the feeling that has been more by design than mere coincidence.

He decides to test his theory with a casual lunch invite, grinning with a fond roll of his eyes when Louis texts back and asks if Liam and Niall are coming too.

 _‘No. It’d probably be just us, but we can go anywhere._ ’

It takes Louis a few seconds to think it over, but then he finally replies. _‘Okay, sure. How about Hambley’s? Or maybe The Grind?_ ’ he suggests. Both places equal distance from their flats. Neutral territory. The thought of it almost makes Harry laugh.

‘ _Alright. The Grind it is_ ,’ Harry sends back, smirking at the café’s name since the two of them _grinding it_ is how they got into this mess in the first place. ‘ _Meet you in twenty?_ ’

‘ _Okay. See you soon.’_

Harry hops out of bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a shirt from the mostly-clean pile of clothes next to his wardrobe as he continues to snigger to himself over the ridiculousness of Louis Tomlinson being shy with him about _sex_ of all things. He’s not stupid so he knew to expect a little bit of weirdness between them after sleeping together. Nothing as catastrophic as the ominous warning Liam gave when he found out, claiming things could never be the same with them again. Harry’s sure that may apply to other people, but he can’t imagine their one drunken night together erasing the thousands of amazing ones they’ve shared over the years. And also, Harry wouldn’t be so quick as to write off their little romp as a disastrous mistake, because from what he remembers, it wasn’t half bad. Even _with_ all the booze.

He’s running a little late to the café. Quite late actually, which his best friend is sure to point out the moment Harry joins him in line to order their usuals. As if _he’s_ ever been on time for anything ever.

“ _Finally_ ,” Louis mutters as he pockets his phone. “Took you long enough. Nearly fell asleep waiting all this time.”

“I know and I’m sorry. Traffic was terrible,” Harry explains. “When did you get here?”

Harry inwardly winces as Louis calculates all the time he’s been standing here. “Mmmm, I’d say about thirty seconds ago?” he smirks. “Maybe closer to like twenty seconds. _Definitely_ less than a minute.”

Louis’ laugh turns into a yelp of surprise when Harry pinches him in the side as retaliation. “You’re such a dick,” he snorts. “Remind me why I put up with you again?”

“Probably because I’m the only one who could put up with you for this long or who would even want t-to.” The smile on Louis’ face starts to fade the moment the words leave his mouth and he realizes that joke might cut Harry a little deeper than it has in the past. “Haz, that’s not what- I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Sorry.”

“Eh. It’s fine,” Harry shrugs it off. “And anyway, you’re not wrong. Evan ran out of there so fast I’m pretty sure those tire marks in front of the hotel belong to him.”

Louis’ lips quirk up at the corners at his joke but his grin quickly turns annoyed. “God, he’s such a dick,” he grumbles. “That arsehole hasn’t tried contacting you again has he?”

“Nope. Not since last week when he came to get the rest of his stuff. It’s alright though. I think it’s better that way. We talked a bit while he was there. He apologized again for not telling me how he felt sooner. I accepted his apology and wished him the best. There’s really nothing else for us to say.”

Louis gives a solemn nod, seemingly impressed with their level of civility towards one another but that firecracker spark in him that Harry has always loved is still alive and well.

“Still a dick,” he maintains.

“Such a dick,” Harry agrees, laughing as they approach the counter.

“Well, you know what they say,” Louis begins once they’ve placed their orders and taken up their usual window seat near the far wall of the shop. “Second time’s the charm. Your next fiancé will be the _one_. Guaranteed.”

Harry feels his brow furrow as he pours sugar into his coffee and spreads pesto on his turkey sandwich. “Pretty sure _nobody_ says that,” Harry disputes. “And anyway, I think one failed fiancé was more than enough.” And he’s definitely not looking for a replacement anytime soon.

“Oh, come on, H,” Louis smirks. “We both know you’re a hopeless romantic. You’ll be all wifed-up again in no time.”

Harry doesn’t really laugh along or agree with him. Mostly, he just feels lost about having to start dating all over again and essentially go through this twice when he’s already exhausted. The look that Louis fixes him with after admitting that he is pretty much giving up doesn’t help, so rather than feel like he’s letting everyone down by growing up a little and no longer living with his head in the clouds, he changes the subject and turns it on Louis instead.

“So, how about _your_ dating life? How’s er- that guy?” With Harry’s brain so caught up in rehearsal dinners and receptions, he hardly had any attention left for the random date Louis brought with him. Obviously, Louis wasn’t too focused on him either from the tiny snort he makes at the mention of him.

“Good question. I have no idea,” he says into his ham and mozzarella panini.

“You haven’t talked to him at all? I thought you really liked each other.”

“Yeah, no.” Louis snorts again, this time with a roll of his eyes. “Our first date outside of one of our bedrooms was a big fat non-wedding –no offense…”

“None taken,” Harry shrugs.

“At which, I ditched him, got shit-faced drunk, _and_ slept with the non-groom, so I don’t really see that going anywhere to be honest.”

It’s not exactly a fairy-tale whirlwind situation so Harry can see why Louis might feel that way, but it’s not like Louis has ever been one for serious relationships anyway. That’s always been Harry’s area of expertise.

“So, there’s no one? You’re not seeing anybody? Er- Sleeping with anybody,” he amends when Louis makes a face at the phrase. 

“Nope. Free as a bird,” his best friend sighs into his lunch as he takes another bite. “Why?” He teases after he’s finished chewing. “You interested in the job or something?” Their table goes silent making Louis blink away from his panini to meet Harry’s gaze with a frown. “That was a joke.”

Harry’s aware that he meant it as one. It doesn’t change the fact that now that the idea is out there, Harry kind of _is_ interested.

“ _Harry_ ,” he warns, even taking the time to put down his panini to look him dead in the eye. “Absolutely not. We will not under _any_ circumstances-”

“Well, why not?” Harry interrupts, abandoning his food too to scoot forward in his seat. “I mean, you’re not with anyone right now, and I’m _certainly_ not with anyone.” Harry has been in nothing but failed relationships and Louis has had so many flings he’s lost count. If neither of them is sleeping with anyone else they might as well sleep with each other. What’s the harm when they’ve already done it once and lived to tell the tale? “Give me one good reason why we supposedly ‘ _can’t_ ’.”

“Uh, here’s several. It’s a dumb idea? You’re my best friend? Did I mention the fact that it’s _dumb_?”

“What do you mean? This is the best idea ever!” It’s even better than their tree pulley or the time they skipped school to drive to the beach. “I mean, I get it if it was too weird for you the first time or whatever. Or if you just didn’t like it. I’d understand.”

Louis’ cross expression loses its bite as it softens and he fondly rolls his eyes at him. “I didn’t say that,” he mutters. “Actually, the sex wasn’t half bad.”

“See! That’s what I said!” Harry exclaims making every pair of eyes in the shop turn their way. “We were good together and it was fun so what’s the problem?” he says in a much lower voice.

“The problem is people always get hurt doing dumb shit like this and I can’t –no. I _won’t_ do that to you, Haz.” Harry blinks back at the feeling of both of Louis’ hands suddenly holding one of his as he lets out a long sigh. “I don’t say it often, but you are the most important person in my life and have been for _all_ my life. And I’m sorry, but I won’t lose that because of something as stupid as sex just because you’re missing your ex.”

“First of all, I do not miss Evan. This has nothing to do with him. Second, sex isn’t stupid, that line between us has already been crossed, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m still right here, Louis. Regardless,” Harry grins. “I swear to you that my mind’s clear and my heart’s intact. I’m just slightly horny right now and I’d much rather deal with that with my best mate than some random I have to get to know and make sure isn’t a serial killer or a complete weirdo.”

“ _You’re_ a complete weirdo,” Louis mumbles.

“I am. And yet, you stuck it in me anyway,” he points out, cackling when Louis snatches his hand away to shove him in the chest.

“What’s wrong with you?” he cackles. “That sounded so wrong!”

“And yet it felt _so_ right!” he jokes, earning another half-hearted shove along with a smile that takes over Louis’ entire face. “I’m not saying we have to go do it in the bathroom right this second or whatever,” he laughs. “I’m just asking for you to casually _think_ about it, if you will. Mull it over.”

“Casually think about sticking it in my best friend,” he echoes with a flat face. “ _Great._ That’s just the image I needed over lunch.” Harry’s been casually thinking about it ever since the hotel and he’s not bothered in the slightest.

It’s much later that night after their lunch, a quick visit with his family at his childhood home, and the gym session he promised Liam that his phone finally vibrates with a new message from the one person it’s been missing these past weeks.

‘ _Say we do try this again... Then what?’_

The fact that Louis is even asking that question means he’s considering it, and in all Harry’s experience, consideration is nothing more than a pit stop on the way to his best friend saying yes. ‘ _Then nothing. Same as before_ ,’ he quickly sends, counting every minute that passes before Louis finally answers him back.

‘ _Okay_.’

‘ _Okay as in yes? Seriously?_ ’ Harry sends as two separate messages before he tacks on a third and a fourth. ‘ _When? Now_?’

 _‘What? No, not right now, you sex-crazed fiend. It’s past midnight. I’m already in bed_.’

Harry hasn’t been single in a while, but last he checked, anytime around midnight is the optimal timeframe for this sort of thing _. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized you and my nan have the same bedtime.’_ He watches the message bubbles dancing on his screen for several seconds while Louis tries to think of a good comeback and fails.

_‘Shut up. I’m on my way.’_

Harry grins in triumph. ‘ _Door’s open.’_

*

Louis had a feeling this wouldn’t would go as smoothly as Harry thought.

Actually, Louis didn’t even think they’d make it this far when he agreed to coming over. He figured Harry would change his mind entirely and chicken out once he realized the idea of them casually sleeping together wouldn’t be the same as the act, but no. They’re both lying half-naked on the bed with Harry in the middle of a giggle fit across from him like the idiot he is while Louis watches with his dick in hand since his partner is obviously a bit _indisposed_ at the moment.

The couple of shots of tequila they each threw back when Louis arrived had seemed like a good way for them to loosen up. He’s now wondering if perhaps the booze did more harm than good since they’ve been lying here for fifteen minutes because seeing Louis hard in his boxer-briefs took his brain all the way back to Liam’s birthday party almost twelve years ago when he walked in on Louis in a rather compromising position.

“Have you quite finished?”

“No! God, you were so funny! You should’ve seen your face.”

If Louis had to guess, he’d say his face was probably fixed in the same annoyed, unimpressed expression as it is right now with his semi dwindling by the minute.

“I was a gay twelve-year-old in a swimming pool full of shirtless boys.” At that age, a stiff wind could’ve gotten him hard let alone a slippery game of chicken. “I had a certain situation to take care of and you _followed_ _me to the bathroom_. Who even does that?”

“Well, you shot out of the pool so fast I thought something was wrong!” he snorts. “And who doesn’t lock the door to have a _wank_?”

“Um, who doesn’t _knock_ before coming _in_?”

His question just sets Harry off laughing again and even harder than before. And just like that fateful day he caught Louis with his swim shorts down around his knees and every time he’s brought it up since, Louis feels the distinct urge to strangle him.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m out. I’m leaving you,” he announces, snatching the pillow from beneath Harry’s head to whack him with it.

“You can’t. You’ve been drinking,” Harry says smugly.

“Fine. Then, I’m going to sleep like I wanted to,” Louis decides. “Not here. Somewhere _else_.”

“Nooo! Don’t go!” he laughs. Louis rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to laugh when Harry’s hands close around his wrist to keep him there. “I’m sorry for laughing at cute, prepubescent you. I’ll be more serious. Seriously,” Harry swears.

He could barely even say that with a straight face, but his lips feel nice when he drops a kiss to Louis’ bare shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, this time right against the shell of Louis’ ear before his lobe is caught between Harry’s teeth. And yeah, he’s gonna be.

Louis doesn’t answer him or accept his apology, turning his head a bit to the right to receive the soft, playful kiss Harry presses to his lips. It’s a lot nicer than all the rushed, awkward kisses they shared before Harry started laughing his dumb head off. He’s calmer and quieter with his mouth occupied, and more serious just as he promised, but Louis still revels in the sharp gasp he makes when Louis bites down hard on his bottom lip as payback.

He pushes Harry back against the mattress and then braces himself for whatever retaliation he’s going to get in return, but all he gets is an appreciative hum and Harry’s hands trying to pull him closer.

“You weren’t supposed to actually _like_ that, you know,” Louis smirks against him, making room for himself between Harry’s legs by hooking one of them around his waist, hearing Harry’s breathing pick up when Louis begins rocking his hips into him. Harry’s not laughing anymore as he quickly hardens up between them, moaning when Louis bites at his lip again since he enjoyed it so much the first time.

“ _F-Fuck_ ,” Louis hears him whisper as a pair of desperate hands start tugging at his waistband. “Can you take these off?”

“Why? So you can start giggling again?” Louis quips, watching Harry’s brow furrow and his teeth sink into his own lip after every superficial thrust Louis makes against him.

“No. Lou, please? I said I’m sorry.”

Louis feels his boxer-briefs catch on the swell of his bum as Harry tries to remove them again, making a feeble whimper when he realizes he can’t do it without Louis’ help.

“You really want me take these off and fuck you?” It’s a direct question, and yet each time Harry opens his mouth to try and answer it he just lets out a whimper instead that has Louis grinding his hips into him harder.

After the complete nuisance he’s been tonight, Louis is tempted to not fuck him at all and drive him mad just like this, but a quick look down at his best friend leaking between them says that he can take much more teasing.

“Y-Yes, Lou, please?” Harry finally manages to get out.

“Okay, I can do that,” Louis whispers back before nipping at his lip again. “Under one condition.”

“Fine. Name it. Whatever you want. Just get inside me,” he pants, a frown taking over his face when all movement against him suddenly stops.

“You can’t tell people about Liam’s pool party any more _or_ bring it up ever again,” Louis tells him. “For the _rest_ of our lives.”

Harry blinks up at him as he mentally does the math on just how long that could potentially be, but it seems no price or hilarious masturbation story is too steep with sex on the line.

“Fine. Done. It never happened,” he reluctantly grumbles in agreement.

“ _Fantastic_.” Louis sits back with a triumphant grin as he gives Harry’s right thigh a playful slap. “Now, turn over so I can stick it in you.”

He gets the hint of a stubborn grin from Harry as well as a slap in return in the chest that feels good as much as it stings so he doesn’t actually mind.  

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Harry hisses.

“Sorry. Jesus,” Louis says with his hands surrendered in the air when Harry shoots him a scathing look just before sitting up to do _exactly what Louis told him to do,_ just as he has from the day they met. “God, you really showed me,” he laughs just loud enough to be heard and earn himself a naked, over-the-shoulder death glare for the first time ever.

Louis removes his boxer-briefs as promised, edging closer towards him and rolling his eyes as Harry starts off on a completely inaccurate tangent about how not funny he is. Ignoring him isn’t all that difficult since he’s had practice doing it for so many years. There’s also the close-up view of Harry’s naked bum distracting him, but in Louis’ defense that’s not exactly something he gets to see every day. He’s already prepped and glistening with lube. That’s really all they accomplished before Harry lost it seeing Louis stroke himself while watching him do it.

It’s incredibly fucking weird for him wanting nothing more than to bury himself inside his best friend but it’s all Harry has been begging for him to do lately, and now that they’re finally here Louis’ dick is painfully throbbing at the thought.

He interrupts Harry’s almost two-decade-old lecture on why Louis being the oldest doesn’t actually _mean_ anything to ask if he’s ready, his heart racing at the sight of Harry’s sure nod and him widening the distance between his knees where he’s braced on all fours. That’s all the encouragement Louis needs to cover himself in lube and slowly push into a tight space so perfect his breath is stolen away by the squeeze.

The only sound in the room is their measured breaths as Harry takes every inch of him and they come skin to skin. A few weeks have passed since the first time they did this. Harry was a weepy mess that night and they were both smashed so that doesn’t help sharpen his memory, but Louis is almost certain being inside his friend didn’t feel this good. It couldn’t have. Otherwise, he would’ve suggested they try it again himself and way before this afternoon.

Louis hunches over him and shuts his eyes against Harry’s back. All his focus goes toward pulling air in and out of his lungs and willing himself to last longer than the thirty seconds he’s been inside of him or else risk adding yet another embarrassing story to their friendship saga.

“Lou, I really need you to move,” Harry pants out after a while of them being frozen against one another. “ _Lou_.”

“I’m working on it. Shut up,” Louis tells him when Mr. Impatient mutters something about being fucked this century.

Louis grips one hand around Harry’s waist and firmly plants the other at his hip to give himself some leverage once the danger of coming too soon is past. The first experimental roll of his hips is barely even anything but fills the room with a desperate, drawn out noise he never even knew his best friend was capable of making. Louis moans with him as he moves again, the pit of his stomach warming over like a flame from the drag when he starts chasing it.

It feels as though every inch of Louis is electrified with each soft slap of their skin and creak of the bed. Their pace covers Harry’s neck in a sheen of sweat and goosebumps that spreads further down his back the harder Louis fucks him.

“You okay?” Louis checks on him when one thrust lands so deep he seems to choke on it with the way his breath catches and stutters on the way out of his throat. For someone who never stops talking, Harry hasn’t said much since they started. Just nodding in answer and releasing a steady succession of quiet whimpers as his grip around the sheets gets tighter and tighter.

Louis tries for the same angle, watching in amazement as Harry’s arms tremble under the weight of holding himself up. “Did I get your spot?”

“Yeah. That’s it,” he pants as he pushes back onto Louis to feel him that deep again. Giving Harry exactly what he wants when he wants it without a fight isn’t something Louis does very often, but his curiosity and desire to see his best friend come apart is too great to resist.

The volume in the room increases with the pace of Louis’ thrusts, punching into Harry so deep that he’s dislodged from his hands, forced to drop down to his elbows instead.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Louis grits out, slowing down to appreciate the sensation of Harry’s body drawing him in. He’s going to come soon if he keeps this up, and yet he can’t make himself stop and pull out to compose himself. Too hypnotized by the feeling of Harry squeezing him tighter by the second and Harry’s back arching to meet his thrusts.

He doesn’t know Harry’s body well enough to guess when he’s getting close, but Louis can feel him trembling when he reaches down to stroke himself. He chokes out that he’s coming and Louis takes that as a hint to pick up the pace again, snapping his hips until every muscle in Harry’s body locks up and he’s whining into the mattress beneath him.

Louis quickly pulls out of him after that, almost missing his window to do so before he spills all over the backs of Harry’s thighs. His heart is still pounding in his ears long after his jelly legs wobble and deposit him somewhere near the foot of the bed to recover. He wonders about Harry and wherever his orgasm dumped him as he comes down, but not for long before a skinny foot nudges him in the armpit.

“You alive down there? _Ouch_! Why are you like this? Stop it _,_ ” Harry drawls before snatching his foot away from fear of another hard pinch.

“You stop it,” Louis frowns, his expression melting into a lazy smile when a toe with the word big tattooed across it bravely pokes at him next before quickly retreating.

“Why can’t you be all cute and cuddly after you come like everybody else?”

Louis has no idea, but he sure doesn’t plan on changing his post-coital style tonight. Or, giving up the chance to annoy the shit out of his best friend when he uses all his remaining strength to grab him by the ankle and tickle him until he can’t breathe from cackling.


	3. Chapter 3

Eight Weeks Later

The sip of cool beer Louis takes nearly goes shooting right out of his mouth watching Niall reenact the face his girlfriend made this morning after his idea to prank her with a classic sugar/salt swap ruined her perfectly good cuppa and a plate of scrambled eggs. Harry reaches out for the stack of napkins in the middle of their table, passing one to Louis on his right so he can dab at the few drops of beer that managed to slosh out onto it.

“You actually let her taste them?” Liam asks incredulously. “And _lived_?”

Harry’s glad someone asked because if it was him getting pranked Niall certainly wouldn’t have made it here to lad’s night.

“Nah, she was pretty cool about it,” Niall says with his lips pulling up into a mischievous smirk. “Well, _after_ she finished chasing me while threatening to kick me in the balls.”

Louis snorts into his beer again before letting out a loud cackle that makes Harry laugh too because swapping the salt for the sugar is one-hundred percent something he would do. Harry can still taste the giant glob of minty-fresh toothpaste gushing into his mouth from the Oreo Louis gave him once and that was over a decade ago.

“Oh my God, Ni. You’ve got to try the Oreo prank with the toothpaste,” Louis says, making Harry fondly roll his eyes because he knew that was coming. “Toothpaste cookies are an all-time personal favorite of mine. They’re sick. Haz can vouch.” He smirks and glances to his left where Harry’s sitting next to him, soaking the table in beer all over again when Harry digs his fingers into his ribs.

Harry’s satisfied once his best friend has wasted about a third of his drink; a painful sort of revenge that would’ve made young, minty-fresh Harry proud. Just like knowing that years later, he and Louis are still here laughing about it like it was just yesterday.

“Well, thanks to Lou’s suggestion, I know what I’m doing tomorrow,” Niall sighs into his beer.

“Yeah, dying because she’s she going to kill you,” Liam laughs before taking a fresh sip from his drink too.

Harry’s beer is almost empty, but it’s only his second of the night. He’s just thinking about getting up to order another when a hand closes around his knee beneath the table. “Hey, I’m going to the bar since most of my beer’s soaked into napkins,” Louis grins. “Want anything?”

“Er- Sure,” Harry answers a beat late after tearing his gaze away from his friend’s pink lips to glance at his empty bottle. Louis’ hand falls away from his leg as he slides out of the booth, inadvertently enticing Harry to follow after him. “Uh, I’ll go with you. To help.”

Louis’ brow comically furrows at his offer along with everyone else’s, but he smiles like he’s glad for the company. “Alright. Cheers.”

Up at the bar, Louis politely inserts himself into the mix, pushing up on his toes to lean across the counter and get the attention of the man distributing shots to a group of people. His tank rides up a bit giving Harry full view of his tight jeans and his thick thighs filling out every inch of them.

“You had a Stella, right?” he asks over his shoulder, snorts when he notices Harry’s gaze flit up from somewhere not even close to his face. He drops onto his heels to turn and face him with an eyebrow arched high. “Another Stella?” he smirks, “Or perhaps you’d prefer something a bit more _full-bodied_?”

The mirth in his gaze is endless when his joke gets a genuine laugh out of Harry. Louis turns away from him to try ordering again, but Harry’s hand reaches out to stop him before he can, almost like a reflex.

“What’s up? You want more chips too?” Louis assumes since the four of them demolished two baskets worth about an hour ago.

“Um, no. Maybe,” Harry amends. “I just really need to go to the bathroom for a minute.”

Louis raises his brow again as he glances around the pub they’ve been to a billion times. “Um. Okay then. Go,” he laughs, the sound of it fading and his eyes narrowing in suspicion when Harry doesn’t laugh along or leave to go pee.

“Come with me? I might need some help,” Harry explains watching Louis’ eyes narrow even further.

“Help. Right,” Louis frowns before Harry leans down to whisper that he really just wants to suck him off but it’d be kind of rude doing something like that right here. Not to mention the permanent scarring Liam and Niall would be subjected to after witnessing such a show.

When he pulls back, Louis does another quick scan of the room, his gaze briefly landing on their two friends still sitting in the booth a few yards away before locking with Harry’s. “Wait. Seriously? Right now?”

“Right now,” Harry confirms with a nod, feeling adrenaline pump through his veins as he makes his way towards the bathrooms at the back of the building with Louis right on his heels. 

Harry pokes his head into the bathroom when they get there only to pull it right back out once he realizes it’s occupied. “There’s too many people,” he laments, however Louis isn’t listening. He’s too busy eyeing the big metal door next to them with a _restricted_ sign nailed into it. A word which apparently means ‘ _go for it, come on in’_ since Louis does just that and forces it open.

He smirks when a bunch of stacked beer crates come into view inside a narrow alleyway that leads to a street just as quiet and empty as this deserted place.

“You coming? Or are you letting a dumb door sign run your life?” Louis teases, already defiantly standing outside the pub with the door held open in wait. There’s a small part of Harry that screams for him to not do it. But, just like every other moment of mischief they’ve embarked on, there’s a much bigger and louder part of Harry that just wants to be wherever his best friend is. No matter what.

He stops thinking so much about it and just goes for it, placing a thin piece of broken wooden crate inside the door before letting it close with him and a proud-looking Louis on the other side of it.

His best friend splutters a laugh into his mouth when his back collides with the hard brick wall Harry pushes him against. “ _Graceful_ ,” Louis chuckles, letting the word vibrate between their lips and not faze Harry one bit as his fingers work below them to unbutton Louis’ jeans.

Harry drops to his knees once they’re open to slide the tight fabric down his thighs. There’s nothing but Louis’ bare skin underneath and he’s already getting hard, making Harry even more excited to taste him. Harry runs his tongue along the underside of him from base to tip feeling Louis shiver from the touch. He smells the same as always. Like the shower gel he uses as well as the warm, sweet scent of his own that Harry has always associated with his best friend, but tasting him? That’s a new kind of high that at times Harry can hardly even think past as it seeps into every square inch of his tongue. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Louis sighs above him as is customary these days, making Harry grin and almost laugh around his mouthful. It’s just so fun seeing his best friend in a different light. _Literally_. Harry glances up as he works his mouth over him, admiring the way the moonlight cuts across his cheekbones. He has always been handsome with his crystal blue eyes and a smile that could light up the sun, but there’s nothing quite like seeing him gone like this.  

He swears up at the night sky, moaning when Harry takes him down so far that his nose is almost buried the trail of dark hair leading away from his navel. Harry backs off a bit, moaning at the feeling of Louis’ fingers slipping into his hair as they lock eyes. It used to be too weird for Harry to look at his best friend while they got each other off but Harry now craves it, eager to hear the desperate warning Louis gives just before his eyes and head roll back. He comes with a mangled sound Harry has replayed in his head over and over since the first time he heard it, seemingly unable to catch his breath as Harry catches it all on his tongue.

They have a few ground rules for all their extracurricular activities together. They aren’t very many and they pretty much only exist to give this thing between them some semblance of sense and order, and also, because Liam and Niall said they needed some. Swallowing is not part of their agreement and it never has been, and even though Harry knows this he can’t help the urge he feels to do it anyway. He doesn’t do it. Only because he’s not really sure what it means that he suddenly wants to or how Louis would react knowing that, so Harry keeps all that to himself including the amused grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he spits it out just like the toothpaste Oreo Louis tricked him into eating when they were kids. It’s scary how much things have changed and also _not_ changed at all after all this time.

“What? I tried warning you,” Louis snorts from where he’s sagged against the bricks when he notices Harry’s expression.

“You’re annoying, _that’s_ what. I just had a Colgate cookie flashback.” Harry says as he kindly tucks his friend back into his jeans, fondly rolling his eyes when Louis cackles and claims it was Harry’s fault for allowing himself to be pranked in the first place. Because that totally makes sense.

Back inside the pub, Louis heads for the bar they abandoned earlier while Harry makes a quick pit stop by the bathroom to clean himself up. There are way less people in there now. Only two once Harry steps in to wash his hands and see the damage Louis' hands did to his curls. His lips are pinker than usual, but not by much. Just enough for their friends to notice in a few minutes and tease him about it as has become the custom.

He doesn’t even realize all the soap has been rinsed from his hands and he’s just standing there grinning as water runs over them until the person in line behind him peeks around his shoulder.

“I can’t be completely sure, but I don’t think you’re doing that right,” a man with dark hair jokes.

“I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t paying attention.” Harry quickly turns off the water and steps aside.

“No, it’s alright,” he assures him. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve forgotten how to wash _my_ hands.” Harry can’t help but smile as he snatches several napkins from the dispenser. “I’m David, by the way. Er- never mind,” he says, laughing when he tries extending his dripping wet hand towards him and realizes. “Handshakes are overrated anyway.”

“I’m Harry, and it’s nice to meet you anyway,” he tells David before turning to leave.

“So- Uh, I noticed you out there with your… friends?” he asks with a hopeful and hilarious lift of his eyebrow that only lowers once Harry nods to confirm.

“I’m here with my friends.”

“That’s great. Me too,” David nods very seriously. “How do you feel about ditching them all and the two of us getting drinks instead?”

It’s one of the best pull lines Harry’s ever been on the receiving end of. Mostly because it makes him cackle and David is really cute, but also because he can tell David is really sweet just from the two and a half minutes they’ve known each other.

“David, that sounds like it’d be a lot of fun, but-”

“ _But_ you’re already seeing someone. Right?” David says with a knowing grin. Harry isn’t seeing anyone. Not really anyway, and yet he doesn’t exactly rush to dispel David’s assumption.

“Um. Yeah, sort of,” Harry lies.

“That’s too bad.”

It’s strange, but even with all of David’s charm and their obvious attraction to one another, Harry can’t quite bring himself to feel the same way.

He wishes David a good night before rejoining his friends, sliding into the empty space of their booth beside Louis who makes Harry laugh the second he arrives.

“Jesus. What did you do, fall in?” he smirks as he slides a fresh beer in front of Harry along with a plate of warm chips. “You never did answer me about that Stella so I just took a guess and got you another anyway. And Niall was tearing through the chips so fast I was afraid he’d eat them all so I saved you some.”

“Thanks, Lou.”

Harry takes a long swallow from his new beer, briefly locking eyes with David just as he’s sitting down with his group of friends. David gives him a kind grin and a nod which Harry returns feeling slightly guilty about his little white lie that kept them from hanging out. But then, he lets his attention drift over to Liam and Niall watching some video and bickering about God knows what and Louis shamelessly stealing Harry’s salvaged chips right from under him and he realizes he doesn’t want to be across the room with David or anybody else for that matter. He’s perfectly happy and right where he should be.

They all leave the pub and decide to venture over to Harry’s for a change in scenery since his place is the closest. They start watching a movie that the four of them talk over until Niall realizes the time and that he should probably be getting home. Liam offers to walk with him since it’s so late. Harry keeps waiting for Louis to offer the same thing since he lives on the way to Niall’s, feeling weirdly giddy when Louis knocks their feet together where they’re propped up on the coffee table.

“Hey. Do you mind if I stay?” he whispers.

Harry shakes his head, grinning wide when Louis does. “Nope. A sleepover sounds great,” he whispers back.

It’s just the two of them alone in Harry’s kitchen with a baking pan, a countertop full of ingredients Louis has no clue what to do with, and a brownie recipe to satisfy their late-night sweets cravings. If Louis could actually _follow_ a recipe.

“ _Lou_! I said to carefully fold in the chocolate chips with the flour mixture, not dump it all in with everything else,” Harry laughs, though really what could he expect from someone who did the same thing with the eggs, cocoa powder, butter, and sugar, while not even measuring the baking powder before casually throwing some into the mix.

“What difference does it make when you add stuff? It’s all going in the oven regardless,” he rolls his eyes as he stirs it all together and begins pouring the lumpy batter into the pan.

“You never sprayed that like I said, did you?” Harry sighs.

Louis stops pouring to glance at the baking spray still sitting on the countertop untouched before giving an unbothered shrug and resuming the certain destruction of Harry’s kitchenware.

“It’s a non-stick pan,” he chirps. “It’ll be fine.”

Forty minutes later and only the top half of the brownies are edible since the bottom half is hard as a brick practically glued to the pan. It’s exactly what Harry knew would happen, however, that doesn’t stop them from grabbing two spoons, placing the whole pan between them on the floor of the living room, and sinking back against the sofa for a proper midnight feast.

“Hey,” Louis grins once they’ve eaten through most of the top layer together. “Do you remember those amazing brownies my mum used to make?”

Harry chuckles just thinking about them. “Of course. We’d only sneak them out of the kitchen every chance we got.” They even stole a batch to take up to their tree the night they snuck out which didn’t exactly help their case once they were caught. “No offense to our baking skills, but hers still win. Our brownies aren’t anywhere near as incredible.” Theirs aren’t the smoothest or chewiest brownies Harry’s ever tasted. They aren’t even very well mixed in some places thanks to Mr. Impatient, but the two of them did okay. Or so Harry thought before he noticed how nostalgic his best friend’s grin has turned.

“It’s funny how the weirdest and most random things remind me of her. Even our horrible excuse for brownies,” Louis chuckles as he takes one last bite and drops the spoon into the pan. Harry gets that. Louis’ mother crops up in his mind all the time too. Even on the day of his non-wedding he had wished she could be there because baby’s breath were some of her favorite flowers and his boutonniere was full of them. He never got to tell Louis that on the day before it all went to shit and highlighting all the things she can’t and won’t be here for will only diminish his current bright smile.

“They’re not _that_ bad,” Harry tries before an unconvinced, flat face from his best friend makes him laugh and accept reality. “Okay, they’re pretty bad,” he admits as he drops his spoon into the pan with the rest of the too hard edges and extra crispy bottom.

Harry places everything on the coffee table that they pushed to the side earlier to make room for their legs, snorting a laugh when he tries leaning back against the sofa again and ends up being yanked over to where Louis is instead.

“ _Ow_ ,” Harry complains even though it didn’t hurt him at all. He’s sure Louis knows that when he laughs rather than apologizes and tells him to shut up before connecting their lips. He pulls back to look at Harry with his left eyebrow slightly quirked the way it always is when he’s unsure about something. Harry answers his silent question with a nod, and this time when Harry leans back it’s onto the floor and with Louis’ hand behind his head to cushion their slow fall.

He tastes a bit like chocolate and the chips they had earlier at the pub. It probably shouldn’t be such a good combination, and yet Louis still tastes so much like himself that Harry hardly notices, opening his mouth to welcome it each time Louis’ tongue brushes against his. Harry misses the soft press of his lips when Louis pulls back with a smirk while unbuttoning Harry’s jeans.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want,” Harry says even though he’s already hard just thinking about having Louis’ mouth around him.

“I want to. And plus, I owe you one,” Louis says, tapping at Harry’s left hip as a request for him to lift his bum. Harry’s jeans are pulled off completely, but he’s only bare and exposed for a moment before Louis dips down and wraps his lips around him.

Harry almost smiles up at the ceiling as every inch of his skin hums from the familiar sensation of Louis slowly taking him apart piece by piece. He lifts his head after a while to steal a peek at his best friend, letting his head drop right back to the ground when Louis makes a deep moan around him. Just feeling the vibrations from it and hearing the hunger behind the greedy sound is enough to have Harry’s heart racing in his chest.

It’s never felt like this with anyone before in his life, and it didn’t take Harry long to figure out why or to realize one simple fact. There’s sex; the kind that he’s had with everyone else, and then, there’s sex with Louis. It never even felt half as good as this with Evan, the man Harry was set to spend the rest of his life with who would suck Harry off from time to time, but never enjoyed doing it and getting him off the way Louis clearly does. Always taking his time and practically chasing the taste of him as he pushes every one of his buttons just right. It’s some of the best sex Harry has had in his life. But, he guesses that’s to be expected being with someone who knows him inside and out. Sometimes even better than Harry knows himself.

He lets out a slow moan as he feels himself brush the back of Louis’ throat, nearly choking on the sharp breath he takes when Louis suddenly pulls off him completely. Harry lifts his head to peek down at him again, feeling the pit of his stomach ignite like a flame when he sees Louis sucking on his fingers. Harry bends his legs and widens them without even being told to do so as he anticipates the first press of Louis fingers against him. When it finally comes, it’s so good that Harry fills the room with a second low moan that snowballs right into another as Louis’ mouth resumes sliding up and down his length like he never stopped.

It’s all so much at once that Harry can barely process everything Louis is doing to him with his fingers just missing his spot (which Harry is almost _certain_ he’s doing on purpose), and his mouth bringing Harry to the edge so quick that he’s in danger of tripping over at any moment. He doesn’t want to come yet. Hovering in the moment feels too amazing to let it go, feeling like his prayers have been answered when Louis pops his head up to meet his gaze with wild, blown eyes.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks with his chest heaving and the outline of his dick in his jeans looking so painful Harry doesn’t know how he can stand it.

All Harry can do is nod, tearing his eyes away to glance over at the coffee table where he tossed his wallet when they got here. “In my wallet. There’s…”

“I know. I’ve got it,” Louis says already reaching for Harry’s wallet and shedding his jeans.

Harry watches him slick himself up with one of the packets of lube he invested in once he realized having sex with Louis wasn’t going to be a one-time or even a two-time thing and that it could happen literally anywhere. They never really plan it. They just go for it whenever the mood strikes them which happens to be quite often. Not that Harry’s complaining _at all_.

Louis’ fingers slip inside of him again, but they’re much smoother now that they’re so slick. He takes them out after only a few seconds, but Harry doesn’t really have time to miss the feeling of them from how fast Louis is already lining himself up and pushing into Harry with a sigh of relief Harry feels burning all along his neck. His skin absorbs every swear that falls from Louis’ lips until he starts rolling his hips and the words are lost in their moans.

Their pace is quick letting Harry know this isn’t going to last long, but it feels so amazing that he doesn’t care, squeezing his legs behind Louis to spur him on. Louis’ breaths and movements become erratic once he starts chasing the heat of him, feverishly punching into Harry with so much force that Harry comes without warning, the ceiling blurring and spotting with stars above him as he spills between them. Harry loves the way Louis keeps fucking him long after he’s finished, rocking into him until he can’t anymore and he’s forced to pull out. He comes for a second time tonight with a long, obnoxious whine that leaves him splayed out on the floor beside him wearing a giant smug grin Harry can’t decide if he wants to slap or kiss off his face as they both come down. A little of both he supposes.

It’s later that night after they’ve cleaned up, dumped Harry’s ruined baking pan into the bin, and wrestled one another for the good pillow, that Harry cracks his eyes open and turns his head to peek at his best friend snoring about ten million years away from him on the other side of the bed with the pillow Harry eventually just _let_ him have so he’d stop whining.

After his engagement went up in flames, having the entire bed to himself was something Harry assumed he would just have to get used to again, and he had. He had even started sleeping sprawled out in the dead center of it simply because he can, and yet whenever Louis stays over it’s like Harry reverts back to his old self. The one that used to love to cuddle and be cuddled. Especially after the wonderful, fun night the two of them just had.

It’s technically against the rules, so he already knows Louis won’t go for it when he scoots back into his space. He carefully lifts Louis’ arm to try and pull it over his shoulders, but as soon as he does the snores stop and his best friend is growling like a bear disturbed out of his hibernation.

“I was asleep. Why do you hate me?” he whines as Harry continues manipulating his limbs to hold him.

“I don’t hate you. I’m just- er…cold,” he snorts, watching Louis frown even harder as Harry forces him into being big spoon.

“ _Cold_? What the hell are you talking about? You’re literally burning up,” Louis complains as Harry snuggles back into him. “Ugh. God, why are you always so hot? You’re like a bloody furnace.”

“Come on, Lou. Please?” Harry begs him. “Just for tonight?”

He hears his best friend scoff behind him with a muttered, “Oh, right. And where have I heard _that_ before?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry lies, but he notices Louis doesn’t move or push him away. His body eventually relaxes around Harry’s and his arm locks him into place against him giving Harry a sense of extreme victory and calm.

“Thanks,” Harry whispers, feeling his stomach flood with a billion butterflies when Louis gives his middle a light squeeze and whispers a sleepy, ‘ _You’re annoying but you’re welcome_ ,’ right behind his ear. And sure, Harry might’ve _said_ just for tonight, but the truth is, he wouldn’t mind lying here with Louis this way for the rest of his life. He’d be more than happy to. For the life of him, he can’t understand how he never realized that in the sixteen years that Louis’ been right here.


	4. Chapter 4

Summer 2002

“I can’t believe we thought we could actually make s’mores up here,” Harry said, leaned against the trunk of the tree with a chocolatey grin. “There’s no way to heat them.”

Louis knew that. He was fully aware that this was an impossible mission for him and his best friend from the start, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to do it anyway. Really, they didn’t need a way to make real s’mores when chocolate bars, marshmallows, and graham crackers were tasty all on their own. And then of course there was the massive brownie tin Louis took the liberty of taking off his mother’s hands. The crumbs of which were all over their fingers and faces because in all their scheming, neither of them thought to bring napkins.

“You’ve got chocolate everywhere, you know,” Louis snorted. No matter what they ate or whether they could see or not Harry was always a mess, but it never failed to make Louis giggle. His best friend was kind of like Louis’ little sisters in that way, except he was actually cool and a billion times more fun. Louis always had the best time hanging out with him no matter if they were watching movies, building pillow forts, pretending the floor is lava, or even doing nothing at all.

“Where?” Harry frowned, using the back of his hand to wipe the side of his mouth which only made it worse.

“ _Everywhere_.”

Harry tried wiping it off again, huffing aloud when he only succeeded in making Louis laugh harder. “Stop!” he whined even though he was laughing just as much. “Whatever. You’ve got it everywhere too,” he suddenly decided with an unbothered shrug once he realized he was never going to win this.

“Come here. I’ll help you.” Louis fondly rolled his eyes at the stubborn look on Harry’s face, still wildly amused by his best friend even as Louis slid closer to him on the thick branch they were balanced on.

He couldn’t even explain the way being with him all the time felt, just that Harry was his favorite person ever even if he did currently look like he’d spent a full day eating mud pies. Surprisingly, Harry didn’t squirm around or slap Louis’ hand away when he reached out to wipe the chocolate off his mouth, but something about his best friend letting him do it had his insides feeling all wobbly out of nowhere. It was like this weird sort of stomach ache except it didn’t feel like much of a stomach ache at all. This was something else that actually felt _good_ , and the feeling only got stronger with his heart beating faster in his chest as Louis felt himself leaning in closer and closer until Harry gasped, jerked his head back, and suddenly, the only thing Louis felt himself getting closer and closer to was the hard ground six feet below them.

*****

Louis wakes up with a grin on his face remembering that night despite all the pain that also went with it. He broke his left arm in two places, got a nasty scrape on the side of his head, and as punishment for sneaking out of the house that late, stealing food, and scaring his mother half to death he was grounded for all eternity. Which at that time was about one full week. His partner in crime received the same sentence. Harry wasn’t even injured, however his mother did let him go with Louis to have his arm set in the middle of the night, and for that Louis was eternally grateful. Even if it was mostly Harry’s fault that he fell to begin with.

Though, one could probably argue that Louis was to blame because he had one-hundred percent tried to kiss Harry that night. That’s one part of the memory Louis oftentimes bypasses because it’s something he for damn sure never _ever_ tried again. Wearing a cast for twelve weeks and having his arm itch like mad underneath it made for a lesson well learned. That should’ve been more than enough, really. And yet Louis still sat under that tree almost every day that summer knowing Harry would meet him there with a box of sharpies ‘borrowed’ from his older sister so they could draw all over his cast and plan the next dumb thing they were going to do together.

The evidence of that night is with Louis always. Especially on days like this when it rains and he can sort of feel his left arm tingling beneath his skin. However, Louis isn’t the only one who carries around little reminders of their childhoods. Harry never broke a bone but he did get a pretty deep cut on his right leg from them racing bikes. The scar from that never did fade. Just like the burn mark Harry got on his right hand a few years later from the day they decided to give smoking a try along with Liam and Niall. Needless to say, _that_ didn’t end very well either.

They’ve been causing mayhem together for ages. Thick as thieves right from the very start when Louis had been so nervous about having to move to a new place when his mother got remarried. Louis had only been in the new house for a day before the curly-haired kid from next door came over and asked if he wanted to be friends. Louis had said yes thinking it’d be nice to play with someone other than his sisters again before starting school. At the very least, he figured Harry could keep him out of his mother’s hair while she got everyone settled, and now here they are sixteen years later and Louis’ still stuck with him. Still doing all kinds of dumb shit except now they’ve upgraded to drinking so much that they hate themselves the next day, getting engaged way too fucking soon, and most recently, getting each other off just for the hell of it because as it turns out, regular orgasms are a lot more fun than scaling trees, and usually a lot less work.

None of it really means anything of course. Despite their families’ suspicions, the two of them have always been just friends. Even the kiss Louis boldly tried for back when they were kids was harmless; he simply figured out that he liked boys a lot sooner than Harry did. All the sex they now have as adults is great, but it doesn’t mean much past Harry having a shitty ex he wanted to not think about anymore and Louis being more than happy to oblige.

Louis’ phone vibrates a second later with a call from none other than the very person he was just thinking of making his grin grow a bit wider. He glances over at the time (barely even _nine_ ), the soft rain tapping against his bedroom window, and the comfy duvet he’s snuggled into before answering with, “It’s early, it’s pouring out, and we both know I have a strict no booty calls before noon policy on Sundays. Please try your request at another time… Or try Niall. I’m sure he’s game.”

He grins at his own joke, anticipating whatever quick comeback he’s about to receive in return for all the sass.

“Yeah, but I’ve got bacon and chocolate chip pancakes,” Harry says a beat later to entice him and suddenly nothing else matters because Harry’s chocolate chip pancakes are Louis’ fucking weakness. “So, technically this isn’t a _booty_ call…” he begins.

“I swear to God I’ll hang up.”

“It’s a… _foody_ call!” As absolutely and completely not funny as that is, Louis still cracks a smile as he listens to Harry cackling on the other end. “Do you get it, Lou? …Lou?”

He’s cackling himself now as he imagines what Harry’s face probably looks like realizing he really did hang up, but Louis isn’t a total monster so he sends his best friend a quick text.

‘ _I’ll be there in ten,’_ he types out after he hops up to throw on some clothes, doubling back to the bed to retrieve his phone when he remembers his own joke from earlier. _‘DO NOT invite Niall_ _Horan! Or at least wait and give me a head start.’_

‘ _Too late :) He’s already on his way. Liam too.’_

 _Shit._ He has seen whole meals disappear at the hands, knife, and fork of Niall, and Liam isn’t exactly a light eater either. Louis picks up the speed with shoving his legs into a pair of joggers and his arms into a hoodie, nearly falling over when his phone vibrates again.

‘ _Better hurry :) :) :)’_

*

Louis slows his quick steps through Harry’s building once he reaches his door and the delicious aroma of a home-cooked breakfast wafting from beneath it. A home-cooked breakfast that’s probably two bites from being gone if Niall is already here. He knocks twice before trying the handle, sighing when it doesn’t budge. Luck smiles on him a few seconds later when the lock clicks from the other side allowing Louis to nearly knock Harry down with the door when he waltzes through it with narrowed eyes.

“Where is he?” Louis says as he toes off his soggy shoes in the entryway.

“Who’s he?”

“Niall of course.” _And_ Liam, but he usually has class and wouldn’t stoop so low as to eat everything in sight before Louis even arrived. Louis turns his suspicious gaze on his best friend after a quick scan of the front of his flat doesn’t produce anyone besides the two of them.

“Oh, him,” Harry grins as he hands Louis a cooled mug of tea that just so happens to look and smell like perfection. “Well, Niall _was_ on his way but then he just texted saying he couldn’t make it after all. And Liam was also going to join but then he said something came up at the last minute, so that means it’s just us,” he explains as he takes great care in placing Louis’ shoes in line with his own by the door. “Is- Is that alright?”

Louis isn’t sure why on Earth it wouldn’t be, but it’s something Harry is obviously concerned about when his forehead crinkles a bit. “Of course it’s fine. That’s actually perfect _,”_ Louis smirks, making Harry release a small breath of relief. “More food for us.”

Contrary to Louis’ belief when he first arrived, there wasn’t a whole room full of chocolate chip pancakes waiting for them like Louis expected walking into a meal meant for four, however the two small place settings at the table looked so amazing that Louis didn’t mind not being able to gorge himself on sugar and grease. It was nice sitting down to eat a real breakfast on such a slow, drowsy day with the rain tapping in the background and the steady supply of tea Harry kept plying him with. The only thing to make it better was Harry’s genius suggestion that they skip cleaning up and say fuck it to all adult responsibilities by having a movie marathon instead.

Louis can’t think of any other way he’d rather spend his Sunday afternoon when he stretches out on Harry’s sofa while he sets up Dirty Dancing. Harry hits play and then runs over to the armchair where he placed the good pillow from his bed and a blanket. Louis expects for him to cuddle up with them there, but then his view of the tv is briefly blocked by Harry squeezing onto the sofa too with his back pressed against Louis’ front.

He wiggles around throughout the entire opening of the film before he’s settled which drives Louis as mad as it did sharing Louis’ single bed before he got an upgrade at the age of twelve.

“Comfy?” Louis teases feeling a hand search for his arm and pull it tight across Harry’s middle.

“Now, I am,” he whispers, giving Louis’ a hand a gentle squeeze as he scoots back to snuggle in even closer. “You?”

It’s difficult to answer or focus on Baby and all her problems on the screen with the scent of Harry’s shampoo caught in his lungs and his thumb drawing mindless little circles along his wrist. “Uh, y-yeah. I’m good,” Louis eventually tells him. Something about the way he said that makes Harry chuckle and glance over his shoulder at him as best he can in the position they’re lying in until he turns around to face Louis completely, smiling as he presses a quick kiss to his lips. His best friend pulls back with his smile still in place which only makes Louis want to feel his lips again. Louis pushes forward to kiss him deeper, just barely catching the tiny gasp Harry makes over the music playing from the tv.

Harry may have said this was all about pancakes and film marathons, but the way he’s kissing Louis back and paying zero attention to this movie says he wouldn’t mind their lazy day going a bit further. Louis lets the hand around Harry’s waist slip down to wrap around his thigh to hoist it up over Louis’ waist instead, but he doesn’t get very far with his plans before Harry reaches down to place Louis’ hand back to its original position. Since Harry isn’t into being teased or felt up today, Louis tries a different approach, licking into Harry’s mouth and going straight for the drawstring of Harry’s joggers before he’s stopped once again.

And honestly, what the fuck? Perhaps this really was just a _foody_ call after all.

They’re both flushed and panting when Louis pulls back to meet a pair of familiar green eyes that for some reason, he’s having a lot of difficulty reading at the moment.

“So… I’m guessing you _don’t_ want to, then?” Louis tries. That must be the case, otherwise his best friend wouldn’t look so incredibly torn about it.

“No. Trust me, I _do_ ,” Harry says with a breathless laugh that also doesn’t make much sense to Louis, but he can’t help grinning too while watching him smile. “Um, I was kind of hoping you could just hold me a while instead? If that’s okay?”

Considering the very intense direction their cuddling tends to lead these days, spooning on the sofa is a very innocent and almost amusing request, but not one that Louis can really deny his best friend. “Yeah, H. Of course,” he nods, accepting the happy and appreciative kiss Harry gives him before grinning and turning back over in Louis’ embrace and settling into it until they’re a perfect fit.

It’s only slightly weird lying together this way without any expectations from one another, but it also feels so simple and easy like the rain or even their breathing that Louis barely even notices as they both drift off.

*

It’s nearly a week later when Louis takes a break from chasing his two youngest siblings through their house like a monster to check the new message he just got. He leans against his stepfather’s door to read it, grinning through his heavy breaths when he sees it’s from Harry.

‘ _Having fun babysitting the twins_?’

Louis glances down at them clinging to his legs and demanding that he continue being a Lou monster as if the word intermission means nothing. They’re so cute he can’t resist snapping a picture of them and sending it off to his best friend. He then takes a photo of himself with actual sweat on his forehead from entertaining them all afternoon.

‘ _Aww_ ,’ Harry sends back followed by several laughing emojis once the photo of Louis looking ten years overdue for a nap comes through.

‘ _We had sugary cereal, watched cartoons, went to the park, made pizza for lunch, and now I’m a Lou monster. Translation: They’re killing me.’_ But, he absolutely loves spending time with them regardless.

‘ _Oh, stop. They are not. You love it_ ,’ Harry insists as if he just read Louis’ mind. ‘ _How much longer do you have before everyone comes back_?’

Louis checks the time displayed on his screen realizing his step-father and his other siblings who are all old enough to withstand a full day of shopping without having a meltdown should be back within the hour. ‘ _Probably only another thirty-minutes, so not too long_ ,’ he responds, watching the dialogue bubbles dance on his screen as Harry types.

‘ _Well, we should go get a drink afterwards. You more than deserve it after homemade pizza AND tickle monster_. _My treat_.’

‘ _Um, it’s_ _LOU monster_. _Completely different species and game_ ,’ he jokingly corrects his friend. ‘ _But, sure. Drinks sound amazing_.’ Louis is just about to tell Harry that he can meet him at their usual pub as soon as his family gets back when Harry gets his new message through first.

‘ _So_ , _there’s this restaurant I’ve been wanting to try ever since it opened a few months ago. We could go there if you’re hungry?_ ’ That’s a dumb question. When is Louis ever _not_ hungry? And speaking of people who are always hungry.

 _‘We better check with Li and Ni. I can’t remember if they have plans._ ’

‘ _I was thinking it could be just us again, actually_.’ That’s fine with Louis and also not very surprising since their friends have been MIA pretty much all week. But, it’s not like Louis’ going to complain about getting free drinks, free food, _and_ his best mate all to himself. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday evening.

‘ _Sold! Time and location_?’ Louis is glad to have his life instantly made even easier when Harry says the restaurant is close to Louis so he’ll be over around eight and they can just walk over together. ‘ _Cool,’_ he answers _. ‘See you at eight!’_

‘ _Oh, and this place is a little nicer than the pub so maybe wear your grey button up? Or maybe even the dark blue? You know the one.’_

The one that always makes Harry and everybody else on the planet go on and on about how amazing his eyes look while he’s wearing.

_‘Keep the not-so-subtle compliments coming. I like that. Makes me feel frisky.’_

Louis waits for Harry’s response, fondly rolling his eyes when it finally comes.

_‘Just wear the shirt. And don’t say frisky. It’s weird.’_

_‘You’re weird. And I didn’t say it. I typed it,’_ Louis points out, unable to stop himself from ensuring he has _last_ , last word before putting his phone away to resume running after the pair of four-year-olds currently hanging off him. ‘ _Frisky_.’

 *

There’s a knock at Louis’ door a couple of minutes before eight o’clock, though he expected that since Harry is always prompt if not slightly early. Louis turns off his tv and walks over to answer it, making sure to grab his keys off the hook in the process.

“Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?” he teases as he opens the door and the dumb grin he was wearing disappears. Harry told him the restaurant they’re going to isn’t exactly t-shirt friendly. Louis expected him to show up dressed fairly nice, but he didn’t expect the fitted slacks he spent a fortune on last year or the thin black shirt that allows all his tattoos to peep through that he only wears when he wants to look good, which he certainly does. The beautiful watch on his wrist that his stepfather gave him is unexpected too. Mostly because it is now only seen during very special occasions since his stepfather died a few years ago. Louis can’t imagine what made him want to wear it tonight, but he’s glad that he did.

“Wow. So, just how fancy is this place anyway?” Louis smiles as he stuffs his keys and wallet into the back pocket of his more casual-looking dark jeans, noting the way Harry quickly looks himself over in the doorway like he suddenly regrets the whole outfit. “You look amazing, by the way,” Louis says to quell his fears. “Love the watch.”

“Thanks,” he says grinning down fondly at his left wrist before his gaze refocuses on Louis still trying to fit his things into the very tiny and unforgiving space thanks mostly in part to his giant bum. “You wore the blue shirt.”

“Well, _yeah_. I practically had to after all that begging you did.” His best friend laughs aloud at that, vehemently denying doing any such thing, but the slight blush on his cheeks tells a different story. “So, you ready to go?” Louis asks, already locking and closing his door behind him regardless of Harry’s answer because his stomach has been impatiently grumbling for the past hour.

“Yeah. I’m starving over here,” Harry claims as they start towards the stairs and his right hand tentatively slips into Louis’ left. They both go quiet and Louis’ stomach swoops in a way he can’t recall it ever doing before this moment, though he tries to not think about that too much. Louis examines their laced fingers before blinking up at Harry who seems to be holding his breath until he sees Louis crack a fond grin.

“Haven’t done this in a while,” he jokes remembering when the two of them would hold hands to go everywhere as kids for no reason at all, until they got a little older and realized other best friends stopped doing it and that they probably should too. It’s a memory Louis had almost completely forgotten about, however, it’s nice to relive it again as adults where neither of them gives a fuck about what some people might think or say about it.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry grins back. “Is it okay?”

He looks so nervous. As if Louis would ever say no.

“More than. It’s giving me major sandbox vibes. I miss those,” Louis jokes as they continue towards the stairs.

The restaurant Harry takes him to is only a few blocks away from Louis’ flat like he said, but it seems there are just as many people waiting outside of it as there are people inside. Louis is prepared to wait with them or concede and choose someplace else, but Harry starts walking towards the woman at the front and checks in for their reservation. Louis wasn’t aware they even had one.

“Wait, you actually called ahead?” Louis gawks as they’re led to their table rather than turned away at the door like everybody else. “God, I love you.” Louis feels himself start to grin when Harry does as he drops Louis’ gaze with his cheeks all pink. “What?” he laughs since it’s like he blushes at the drop of a hat these days and gets weirdly shy for no reason. Harry shakes his head in answer as if to say nothing, but _something’s_ been up with him lately. Louis just can’t figure out what.

Their table is lovely and almost romantic with its lacey white tablecloth and candles giving it a soft glow. “This is... way nicer than any place we’ve ever been,” Louis points out as they take their seats and begin reading their menus amongst all the couples surrounding them.

“Oh,” Harry frowns down at their intricately folded napkins and the vase of white roses in the middle of the table. “Do you not like it here?”

“No, no, it’s great. I think it’s beautiful,” Louis assures him. He just feels a little out of place. Like maybe the two of them don’t belong somewhere like this. However, his best friend seems more than comfortable being in such an intimate setting together so perhaps Louis’ just overthinking.

“Oh,” Harry repeats in much happier tone. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve been wanting to come here for forever.”

Louis frowns at that and lowers his menu a bit so he can meet Harry’s gaze. “You never came here with Evan?” This looks like just the sort of place they would’ve loved.

“No. He never really wanted to and _I_ certainly couldn’t convince him,” he says making Louis annoyed with his ex’s bullshit all over again. “But, that’s okay. I don’t mind,” Harry shrugs with a grin despite it all. “I’d much rather be here with you anyway.”

The restaurant turns out to be completely worth all the hype and Harry’s long wait to try it once their food is brought to them. Louis has never seen someone look more impressed than Harry when he tastes his risotto, and Louis is convinced he’s never had more delicious pasta in his life. The dessert menu looks great too once it’s time to order some, however they’re both kind of in the mood for brownies again so they swap fancy for familiar and venture over to Breadwinners, the bakery that doesn’t quite taste like Louis’ mother’s baking, but has always run a very close second.

After Harry took the time to walk him over to the restaurant tonight, Louis feels it’s only fair to return the favor and walk him to his flat once they’ve both eaten their weight in chocolate and realize how late it has gotten.

The streets are less crowded than they were at dinnertime. Some are practically deserted, but Louis has never felt less alone with his best friend beside him, cackling his head off as he completely breaks his promise of _not_ bringing up embarrassing shit from their pasts. It doesn’t help that Louis can’t stop laughing either. In fact, it only encourages him more, though Louis can’t help wondering if Harry’s only talking so much because he still seems so nervous. Possibly even more so than he did at the beginning of the night, anxiously chewing at his bottom lip more and more the closer they get to his building.

This is definitely one of the tamer evenings they’ve spent together, but no less fun when they arrive at his door and Harry lets go of his hand. Louis hadn’t even noticed their hands had been linked at different points in the night. It just felt that natural. Like riding a bike again after years of not doing so.

“Thanks for loading me up with free booze and chocolate,” Louis jokes even though they didn’t really drink that much. Harry only had one glass of red that he casually sipped throughout their meal so Louis did too. However, he almost wishes Harry had drank more. At least then he’d have the alcohol to blame for the peculiar, hopeful way Harry’s been looking at him all night. Kind of the way he’s looking at Louis right now as he leans against his door instead of opening it like normal.

“You’re welcome,” Harry smiles back. “I had a great time. It was really fun.”

Louis nods in agreement as they both go quiet and Harry continues watching him from the door. He’s hardly even breathing. Almost as if he’s waiting for something which Louis finally figures out when his hopeful gaze falls to Louis’ lips in a silent request to be kissed.

Harry’s been acting so weird that Louis’ not really sure what this night meant to him, only that it felt like much more than just a fancy dinner somehow and that he chose Louis to share it with. And Louis’ not sure when he made the decision to step forward into Harry’s space so close that their noses brush, just that he sighs at the press of their lips and eagerly kisses Louis back.

When Louis pulls away after a few seconds he gets the feeling Harry doesn’t want him to go too far by the firm grip around his waist to keep him. Louis only came up here to make sure Harry got home okay. He just assumed drinks meant drinks and that they wouldn’t be having sex tonight, because lately, they haven’t been, but Harry is holding onto him like he desperately wants to change that.

“Please stay.”

The words are whispered right against his lips before Harry lightly kisses them, grinning like the overconfident, spoiled little shit that he is when he feels Louis nod and surge forward to deepen the kiss just the way he wanted from the start.

Hands seem to pull at Louis from everywhere, just trying to get him closer when Louis can already feel Harry’s heart pounding through their shirts. Louis chases the taste of his best friend’s tongue until he’s drunk with it, nearly forgetting where they are until the sound of another flat door opening and closing somewhere reminds him. “Open the door. Open it,” he breathes, watching Harry fumble with his keys like he’s never used them before. Once he finally finds the right one, he does as he’s told for once rather than going on some diva strop about being bossed around. Instead, he opens the door, pulls Louis inside his moonlit flat, and locks it again with them on the other side of it and his keys long forgotten about on the floor.

Harry recaptures his lips the moment they’re alone, this time pressing Louis against the wood of the door but easy enough that their combined weight against it only makes a small thump. They’ve never kissed like this before. So intense that they can hardly catch their breaths trying to keep up with one another, but also, tender and thoughtful in a way that has Louis’ stomach swooping so hard it’s a wonder he’s still fucking standing. He wonders if Harry feels that too when he pulls back just enough to see him and the heavy flush to his cheeks is visible even in the dark. Louis can feel just how warm he is when he rests their foreheads together to take his first full breath in minutes, hearing the measured rhythm of it hitch in his throat when Louis’ impatient lips find his again and he starts walking them towards the bedroom.

They’re usually a lot more naked by now or at least half-way there so Louis breaks their kiss and gets to work undressing himself as soon as the bedroom door shuts behind them. He peeks over at the bed expecting to see Harry doing the same thing, but he’s not. He’s just sitting there with his eyes trailing over every inch of his bare skin as it becomes visible. Louis feels almost self-conscious being watched and being the only one of them who’s naked, but then Harry begins slowly twisting off each of the rings adorning his fingers and lays them to the side. He removes his stepfather’s watch the same way followed by his shirt and every other piece of clothing he’s wearing until there’s just him sitting on the bed waiting.

Louis steps closer when Harry grins at him, stopping off at the bedside table to pass him the lube first and then standing there with a hand squeezed tight around himself to stop from leaking as Harry lies back against the pillows and opens himself up.

“Come here,” Harry tells him a few minutes later, gasping under his own touch. “Come kiss me.” For the most part, kissing is usually over for them at this point and it’s solely about getting each other off, but Louis doesn’t question it. He does exactly as he’s told, joining Harry on the bed and getting lost in the slide of their lips and Harry’s soft moans until he’s so hard he can’t take it anymore.

“Are you ready?” he winces, praying that Harry is because Louis really, really needs him to be. His heart starts beating double time when he feels Harry nod and press one last kiss to his mouth.

Louis has just enough time to reach for the lube and cover himself in it from base to tip before Harry’s lying back again and pulling Louis over top of him. He feels a familiar pair of thighs come up and around his hips and a pair of hands slide around his back to lock him in place as Louis pushes in, letting that familiar tight heat swallow him down until there’s nothing but skin between the two of them. When Louis opens his eyes, Harry’s are right there in front of him and already staring back. The dark green of them barely even visible with his pupils blown so wide, and then suddenly it’s gone completely when Louis rolls his hips and his eyes flutter closed.

It feels so good to finally move that Louis shuts his eyes too once he picks up the pace. But, he only concentrates on chasing the feeling for a moment before he feels a hand lift his chin so that he and Harry are looking right at each other again. Harry brings their lips together again, this time while Louis moves inside him which is something they’ve not done in all the time they’ve been sleeping together. To be honest, it’s something Louis hasn’t done with anyone because it always felt too intimate, but his best friend gently eases him into it, kissing him deep and only adding to the fire building at the pit of his stomach.  

He can feel Harry moving with him with every thrust, helping Louis get that much further inside him and then gasping into his mouth when they find his spot together. The feeling of Harry pulsing and tightening around him is already bordering on too much, and then he whispers that he wants to ride Louis so softly against his lips that it sends cool chills running down his arms just hearing him ask.

Louis slows his movements to a full stop and pulls out of Harry to let him up. He quickly sits back against the headboard as requested, watching in awe as Harry settles his weight over his lap to bring the two of them closer than ever before. This isn’t generally the way this goes for them but he’s loving it. Just as overwhelmed watching Harry lift up on his knees and begin his slow decent down around him as he is feeling Harry take every inch of him.   

Once Harry is sitting flush against him, his hands travel up Louis’ arms and shoulders to wrap around his neck, his breaths bated and their gazes burning when Harry starts slowly riding him. They’ve only just started again, but the steady rotation of his hips is so fluid and perfect that Louis can already feel himself unraveling at the seams. Harry seems just as gone as him, his eyes half-lidded and his jaw slack forcing them to resort to breathing into one another rather than actual kissing.

They’re both burning up and so drenched in sweat that all Louis tastes is salt when Harry bites down on his bottom lip to ride out the hard shudder Louis just caused by thrusting up into him. Louis does it again and keeps doing it, knowing Harry is getting close just by watching every twitch of his face. From the tiny crease between his eyebrows to the blunt nails digging into the nape of Louis’ neck each time his spot is hit just right, all signs point to Harry hanging on by a thread. Just the knowledge of that has Louis fighting to keep it together too, but he can’t hold off for much longer.

“Haz, I’m close,” he pants, his grip tightening around Harry for when the inevitable happens and he’ll suddenly need to pull out of him.

“M-Me too. Go ahead,” he encourages him around another hit straight to his prostate that leaves him shaking and his chest splotched pink. In a night full of firsts, the serious look Harry pins him with is yet another. And although Louis has no idea what’s making Harry talk this way, Louis _does_ know that he shouldn’t listen to him or even want to come inside his best friend because it’s crossing every line and breaking every rule, however, he can’t think past the larger part of him that simply doesn’t care and just wants to do it anyway. “Go on, love. Do it. I want you to,” he repeats, making Louis’ stomach burn with the thought.

Louis holds on and takes it for as long as he can until he feels the heat in his stomach sink so low that he’s in danger of spilling any moment. “Fuck, Haz. Are you sure?” No one has ever asked Louis to do this because he’s always wearing a condom. He and Harry never have. After their first time happened so unexpectedly, it seemed kind of redundant to start after the fact.   

“I am,” Harry whispers against him, saying it in his ear over and over until it his voice cracks and he’s spilling at the same time as Louis who can’t stop the wave once it’s already begun. He clings to Harry, gasping so hard it hurts as he does the unthinkable and fills him up.

Harry smiles as he presses soft kisses all over Louis’ face, his hips still leisurely rolling long after they’ve finished leaving Louis’ entire body humming like a live wire and his mind hazy. They’re still connected when Louis lightly squeezes at Harry’s hips to make them finally come to a stop, but he doesn’t have time to miss the feeling when Harry holds his face in his hands to kiss him with so much affection and warmth that Louis can feel the emotion in his chest.

When Harry pulls back, he’s still smiling just as big and bright as before, and he just looks so deliriously happy. It’s the same way Harry has smiled at him all night and has been smiling at him for a long, long time, but it’s not until this moment that Louis recognizes that look for what it truly is. _Love_. He’s practically fucking glowing with it. And it’s not like that’s a bad thing necessarily when love is exactly what has made their friendship so strong and kept them in each other’s lives all this time. Just not the kind that makes his best friend look at him like he’s the answer to everything and search his eyes as if their whole future lies within them.

“What?” he laughs when he kisses Louis and notices he doesn’t make much of an effort to kiss him back. “Are you alright?”

Louis isn’t really sure. He feels weird. Like his stomach doesn’t know which way is up or down and like his heart can’t remember its true rhythm from how wildly it’s beating.

“Don’t tell me we’ve gotten so good together we finally broke you,” Harry chuckles with a fond roll of his eyes as he leans in for a second time. “Come here, you.” He brings their mouths together and it’s like Louis has to remind his brain to make his lips work and kiss Harry back, but he can’t relax or sink into it no matter how nice it feels or how familiar he tastes. He can’t think about anything besides how reckless and stupid he’s been to think something like this could never happen to them; by allowing something like this to happen to him and the person he cares about most in this world.

They do a quick job of cleaning up and then Harry climbs right back into bed. He bites down on a grin as he turns down the duvet and pats the space next to him and for a moment, Louis is frozen. His feet leave him planted firmly in the middle of the room, unsure if the decision to continue on as if nothing has changed is the right one or if he should just leave, but there’s so much light and contentment in Harry’s eyes that Louis can’t even think of hurting him that way. At least not tonight.

He slides into bed next to him, allowing himself to be pushed and pulled and cuddled into until he’s holding Harry in the only position he now likes to sleep in. Another rule made at the start of this and broken a dozen times over by now because Louis can never say no and he always wants to give Harry the world even when he shouldn’t. And only after Harry drifts off wrapped up safe and tight in his arms does it occur to Louis that the reason he always gives in and doesn’t mind doing so one bit is that he just might love Harry too.

As hard as Louis tries, he can’t sleep. Not with the billions of terrifying thoughts speeding through his mind just as fast as his heart is beating and his stomach is turning realizing just how badly he’s fucked up. He doesn’t know when he decided to gently disentangle himself from his best friend’s sleep-slack grip, just that he does it. And, he doesn’t know what exactly makes him put on his clothes and tiptoe out of his flat, just that he’s gone before Harry even notices he’s not there.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry couldn’t help laughing as he watched his best friend scoop up two brownies, sandwich them between two giant marshmallows, and try to fit the whole sugary concoction into his mouth to bite it. Unsurprisingly, all he succeeded in doing was making a big, squishy mess and eventually accepting defeat, but it was fun watching him try. Points for effort.

“I can’t believe we thought we could actually make s’mores up here. There’s no way to heat them,” Harry had said, watching Louis lick bits of chocolate off his fingers and scrub the back of his hand over his mouth as a make-shift napkin. They didn’t think to bring real ones for their adventure. Just like Harry didn’t really consider the logistics involved with making s’mores (mainly acquiring a cabin fire) when Louis presented the idea. He was just excited to hang out with his best friend after thinking he wouldn’t see him again until tomorrow.

Harry popped the last corner of the brownie s’more he’d been working on into his mouth, frowning when he glanced over at Louis sitting much further out on the tree limb than Harry would’ve ever dared and wearing a smirk.

“You’ve got chocolate everywhere, you know,” he said matter-of-factly which made Harry wonder if he really was covered in food or if Louis was just messing with him.

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, suspicious because Louis lived to tease him, but in the end, Harry took the bait anyway. “Where?” He wiped a hand over the corner of his mouth to get rid of this alleged chocolate smeared on it, but all that did was make his best friend laugh.

“ _Everywhere_ ,” he claimed and started giggling even harder because no matter where Harry tried he apparently still wasn’t getting it.

“ _Stooop_!” Harry whined, trying to be annoyed with Louis but somehow finding it in himself to laugh too. “Whatever. You’ve got it everywhere too,” he shrugged. It wasn’t true. Louis made sure of that when he cleaned off his fingers earlier, but Harry had to say _something_ once he realized trying to clean himself up in the dark was a losing game.

Louis didn’t seem very convinced by his lie though he didn’t call Harry on it. “Come here. I’ll help you,” he offered, still grinning ear to ear even after Harry refused to move out of nothing but pure stubbornness until Louis decided to go to him instead. 

Harry could feel their branch bobbing with their weight as Louis expertly made his way closer to him near the trunk of the tree. Louis reached his hand out towards him with caution, almost like he expected it to be immediately slapped away, but Harry didn’t do that. He didn’t wiggle or squirm at all as Louis gently thumbed over his lips, but the way Louis had gone quiet all of a sudden while looking at him and his mouth had Harry racking his brain wondering what the hell he was staring at so hard.

His best friend had sat there frozen that way for a few beats and then suddenly it felt like he was getting closer and closer. It only took Harry a second to realize Louis _was_ in fact moving closer to him. His hand was resting on Harry’s knee making his stomach do some bizarre flip-floppy thing it had never done in his entire eight-year-old life. It was all too much and too weird and to his horror, Louis was still leaning in, so in a moment of blind panic and weird flip-floppiness that wouldn’t stop, Harry flinched away, Louis completely lost his balance, and unfortunately, the hard ground below was all that was there to break his fall. And his arm of course. In two places.

******

It took a while to see the humor in it, but that memory never ceases to make Harry laugh. Regardless of the fact that it ended in tears, hysterical and panicked yelling from their parents once all the noise woke them, and a sniffly ride to the hospital to reset Louis’ arm, it was still a good night.

Harry’s definitely awake now after a dream like that though his eyes are still closed, smiling remembering how he was just as horrified watching his best friend fall to what he thought was his certain death as he was watching his puckered lips come within mere inches of his own.

No one had ever tried to kiss him before, especially not a boy. Louis never tried it again after that night and they never ever brought it up because Harry was way too embarrassed, but he wishes he could go back and tell that younger version of himself that a few years from then, things would be different and he wouldn’t find kissing so weird. In fact, he’ll actually come to like it and adding boys into the mix just makes it better. Certain boys can even make it amazing, but there will come a day that one boy in particular comes along and makes him forget about all the others because kissing him will feel so perfect and overdue and _right_ that he’ll never want to kiss another person besides that one boy ever again.

Unfortunately, Louis wasn’t his first kiss or even his second or third, but Harry wishes he had been. He wishes he had kissed Louis every day for the last sixteen years, however, it’s nothing he can’t try and make up for now. Truth be told, he and Louis probably made up for over half of those lost kisses just last night because it was so perfect Harry couldn’t keep his lips off him.

He turns over in bed expecting to see Louis when he finally opens his eyes to brave the morning sun, but oddly enough, he’s not there. Harry assumes he’s in the bathroom and is actually quite appreciative of his minute or so of alone time because he still can’t even believe last night happened. It wasn’t exactly an _official_ date. He never used that word when asking Louis out, but the whole evening turned out to be so much more than Harry ever expected, and he’d prefer to grin like an idiot about it and squeal a bit into his pillow without being judged.

After running every glorious second of their evening together through his mind a couple of times, Harry starts to get anxious waiting for Louis to return. It’s Sunday which means Louis considers any time before noon early. He grabs his phone off the bedside table to check the time, first noticing that it’s barely even nine, and second, that Louis texted him. Nearly _eight_ hours ago.

It’s weird because that was around the time they had both fallen asleep. But, to be fair, after they made love Harry’s mind and body were all tingly like static anyway so it’s completely possible that he missed a few things.

Harry opens the message feeling that constant fluttery feeling in his stomach come to a cold, hard stop when the first word he reads is _sorry_.

‘ _Sorry I couldn’t stay. I wasn’t feeling well so I went home. Tried not to disturb you. –L_ ’

“Lou?” he calls out loud enough for him to hear no matter where he is in the flat and gets no response. Not even the rattle of dishes in Louis’ pursuit of his morning tea. The duvet goes flying back as he sits up in bed only just now noticing how cold the sheets are on Louis’ side as well as the absence of his clothes over near the door where Harry watched him take them off. He really is gone.

Harry texts him back immediately as worry starts to set in because regardless of his own disappointment by not having Louis here, Louis woke up feeling so sick last night that he had to leave. He has romantic feelings for Louis, sure. After flirting with the very thin line between loving him and being _in_ love with him all these years, falling for him was the easiest thing in the world. But, underneath all that Louis is and always will be his best friend, and right now he’s somewhere feeling terrible alone.  

He thinks of replying to Louis’ text from the night before but then decides against it and calls instead. It rings and rings for nearly a minute before it goes to Louis’ voicemail which is full because he never listens to them so Harry’s forced to hang up. He’s more concerned than ever now so he dials him again, feeling that worry melt away when someone on the other end finally picks up. “Louis?” Harry’s brow furrows when it takes his friend a few beats longer to respond than it should have.

“Hey, Haz,” Louis greets him, but it sounds off somehow. “How are you?”

Harry rolls his eyes at the question. “I’m fine, but forget about me. How are _you_? You said you didn’t feel well last night?” He listens as Louis clears his throat and then takes a deep breath.

“Uh, y-yeah, I um- My stomach’s bothering me a bit, but it’s probably nothing.”

The first thing that comes to Harry’s mind hearing that is the lobster sauce fettuccini Louis ordered at the restaurant last night that _he_ suggested Louis try. “Fuck, it was probably the pasta. I’m so sorry, Lou.” That would make sense because Harry had the mushroom risotto and feels just fine.

“Yeah. It might be that…” Louis agrees after another uncomfortable clearing of his throat. “But, uh, don’t be sorry. And don’t worry because I’m just gonna sleep it off.”

“Okay,” Harry nods even though Louis can’t see him. Louis taking it easy is probably a good choice, but he may need some things. “Someone should be there with you. I just woke up but give me a few minutes and I’ll be right over.” His feet are touching the floor and he’s already running through the ingredients he’ll need to pick up on the way to make soup when Louis’ sharp voice makes him freeze.

“No, don’t!” he yells before quickly backtracking. “Er- I just mean- I’m not home. I’m at my step-dad’s. I had Niall drive me over, so, you don’t have to waste your whole day taking care of me.”

Harry frowns at that. On the one hand, he’s glad Louis’ with his family and got there safely, but on the other, he’s a little put out by Louis’ flat out rejection of his offer to help. Also, by Louis assuming Harry suddenly wouldn’t want to take care of him anymore when they’ve been doing that for each other for forever.

“But, Louis, I _want_ to. It’s not a bother to stop by your stepdad’s. I haven’t visited in a while anyway, so I honestly don’t mind,” he tries to no avail.

“I know you don’t, Haz,” Louis says quietly. The line is quiet for a long time all Harry can hear is them breathing. “Listen, I should go,” he decides without much warning. “Thanks for calling to check on me. You’re the best.”

“Er- Of course. You’re welcome,” Harry says, his frown deepening as he’s rushed off the phone. “Louis- Is there something else going on? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay. Promise. I’ll talk to you later.”

“O-Okay. Sure. Well, feel bet-” _Better_. Harry doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before the line goes dead and a heavy weight forms at the pit of his stomach.

Maybe he is going to be sick after all.

*

Louis clutches his phone in one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose with the other to avoid the completely unimpressed look Niall is probably fixing him with right now from the doorway of his and his girlfriend’s kitchen.

“Seriously?”

His tone makes Louis sigh long and hard before he even opens his eyes because he already feels shitty enough without all the judgement. “What? I had to come up with _something_ ,” he says in his own defense.

“Um, okay, but did you have to use _my_ name in the process? You know he’s going to call here asking after you now, right? And when he does, I’m not helping you.”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? _Not_ answer him?” That was out of the question. Louis may have lost his mother a few years ago, but his best friend quickly took over the title of world’s biggest worrier when it comes to him. He had already called twice in less than two minutes. He would’ve dialed until his bloody fingers fell off. “And what do you mean you’re not helping?”

“I mean I’m not adding to your whole web of lies situation,” Niall says with vague, circular hand motions that must resemble a web shape to him but Louis doesn’t see it. “You should’ve just told him the truth.”

“You wouldn’t rat me out,” Louis rolls his eyes. “And you don’t understand. He’s _in love_ with me, Niall.”

“Yeah, as you’ve said every hour on the hour since you woke me up at half past two in the morning,” he mutters. “Real proud of you for finally figuring that one out, mate. Really. But again, you should’ve just told him the truth. You know- that _thing_ about how you’re also in love with him because you _are_ , therefore this isn’t a real issue and you’re just making it into one?”

Louis doesn’t say a word. He can’t. And he also can’t do what Niall is asking because it would destroy his entire world. He and Harry aren’t just going to _be_ together or whatever it is he and Niall think is magically going to happen here. They’re going to ruin their friendship and never speak to each other again because Harry loves hard like he’s got nothing to lose, and Louis? He’s got literally everything to lose when it doesn’t work out between them. He won’t do it.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m done,” Niall announces when Louis ignores his speech in favor of staring at his hands instead. “I tried. Get out. Go whine to Liam. Or better yet, _talk to Harry_.”

“ _What_?! You’re kicking me out? Seriously?”

Just as he asks the question, Niall’s phone rings and he answers it faster than Louis can even open his mouth to ask who’s calling.

“Haz, my mate! Good morning! How are you?” he greets Harry brighter than he’s ever greeted anyone in his life. It’s all for show and annoying as fuck, but honestly Louis deserves it. “Oh. When’s the last time I spoke to Louis, you ask? Well, it’s funny you should mention _him_ …” he bluffs with a pointed look at Louis shoving his feet into his shoes to flee the premises with a roll of his eyes and his middle finger held high. “ _Dragging it out’s only going to make it worse_ ,” Niall whispers at the door with the phone held away from them. “ _Just tell him_. _Please. For Harry?_ ”

His friend moves the phone closer and holds it out to him in offer. Knowing Harry’s on the other end of sitting in his flat confused and worried over him makes his chest ache, but the thought of what would happen if he takes Niall’s advice hurts more so he doesn’t do it, throwing his friend a look of apology before stepping out into the corridor and letting the door quietly close behind him.

“No, I haven’t spoken to him since I dropped him off at his stepdad’s. Said he wasn’t feeling well,” Louis overhears Niall lie for him before he leaves. He greatly appreciates it. At least that’ll buy him some more time while he figures out how to fix this mess.

It’s only after Louis leaves that he realizes he doesn’t really have any place to go. Niall is more than fed up with him at this point so he can’t stay there. He certainly can’t go home. That’s literally the first place Harry would look after going to his stepdad’s, but Louis can’t go there either because his family would have way too many questions and Louis doesn’t exactly have answers.

After a long walk that lands him nowhere, he ends up a few blocks from Niall’s standing outside flat number 132. Louis knocks half expecting for there to be no answer, but only a few seconds tick by before the door opens and his friend Liam appears looking not at all surprised to see him there.

“Let me guess,” Louis sighs. “Niall?”

“Niall,” he confirms with a grin, scrolling through his phone to read out his latest message. “He said, and I quote, ‘ _Idiot number 1 heading your way. Over_.’”

“Oh. Er- Right,” Louis frowns down at his feet. He should’ve known Niall would tip off the only other person he could run to. “I-I was just here to see if I could hang out for a while to clear my head.”

“Hide. You mean hide for a while,” Liam softly corrects him.

Louis hates to admit that he’s avoiding his best friend, but he guesses there’s really no other way to put it. “I know how awful that sounds. And- I know I have to talk to him eventually and I will. I’m just…”

“Not ready yet,” he finishes for him. Louis nods in agreement, and for a moment, Liam contemplates turning him away because they both know that he should. But then, his deep brown eyes soften over with a long sigh and he’s grinning fondly at Louis like he’s some sad, remorseful puppy who fucked something up but didn’t mean to. “You look really nice, by the way,” he smirks, taking in Louis’ wrinkled outfit from the night before. “Hot date?”

“Something like that, I guess,” Louis mutters, unable to stop himself from cracking a small grin because although Harry never used that word, he should’ve known. Sneaky bastard.

“Yeah, I heard,” Liam laughs. “Wanna come in and tell me more about it and your fake food poisoning? I mean, Niall already told me the gist of it, but I’d still like to hear it from you too.”

Louis rolls his eyes as he steps into Liam’s flat. _Fucking Niall_.

A few bowls of cereal and several cups of tea later leaves Louis tracing the rim of his empty mug with his index finger, actively avoiding his friend’s wide, disbelieving gaze once he finishes telling him everything.

“ _Wow_.”

“Yeah,” Louis says with a solemn shake of his head. “I know. It all started out so harmless and now-”

“No, not _that_ ,” Liam interrupts. “You two will be just fine, but Louis, you actually thought there was a free, pancake breakfast that Niall Horan turned _down_? You didn’t find that a little strange?”

Louis rolls his eyes so far back he swears he can see his own gullible brain. “I know. He said the same thing, but apparently, this whole time I’ve just had this completely naïve notion my best friend was telling me _the truth_.”

“Kind of like _he_ does right now?”

The way Liam said that is like a sucker punch right to the gut, but it’s well deserved.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, Li. I’ve felt like something has been up all along, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it, and then somehow last night I just _knew_. The way he looked at me. _Kissed_ me like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and fuck, when we finally had sex again? I can’t even explain it. Sex with us has always been strictly sex, but- god, being with him last night just felt so… _so_ -” He doesn’t even have the words to describe it, but he soon realizes that Liam looks plenty entertained watching him try.

“You were saying?” he prompts with his eyes filled with mirth watching Louis’ cheeks flush.

“Nothing,” Louis says, determinedly staring down at his mug again. “Last night was just different than usual is all.”

“Sure sounds like it,” Liam chuckles.

They’ve been at this for hours, Louis has barely slept, and all talking about it has gotten him is a bunch of raised eyebrows and a guilty conscience weighing him down that just gets heavier each time Harry calls and he doesn’t pick up. Louis rests his head against the table and wishes it were his bed instead. “I need to not be awake right now. I’m exhausted,” he says, lifting his head to glare at his friend when he mutters an amused ‘ _I bet_.’

“Well, the sofa’s free,” he says with his maturity thankfully restored. “I don’t mind if you crash on it.”

“Bless you,” Louis sighs, abandoning his place at the table to go get right on that.

“I can get you a blanket if you want and something comfy to wear. I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in all that,” Liam frowns at his tight jeans and button-up. Louis appreciates the offer, but politely declines it.

“Thanks, Li, but there’s really no need. I’ll be fine,” he answers, confident that as soon as his head hits the cushion he’ll be out no matter what he’s wearing.

“It wouldn’t be as bad as you think, Louis. I think you already know that, but you just don’t trust it,” Liam calls after him just before he’s out of sight, and somehow Louis knows they aren’t talking about t-shirts and joggers anymore.

Louis glances back at his friend’s sure expression wishing he could have the same confidence that this will all work out. That it’s okay for Louis to get butterflies when he thinks about his best friend or wish that he could’ve just stayed with him last night like he secretly wanted to, but, it’s not okay, and Louis didn’t stay because allowing himself those small things now will only hurt them both more later. Even Liam and all his optimism must realize that.

 

*

Louis’ nap doesn’t go quite to plan when he curls up on Liam’s sofa. He spends half his time lying there just trying to turn off his brain and each time he does finally manage to drift off his dreams are like smoke. Barely even there yet filled with tall oak trees, a pair of green eyes, and a familiar sweet scent of someone’s skin that Louis can’t quite place even though he has known it all his life. He wakes up longing for it every time only to open his eyes and realize the person associated with it isn’t there. Somehow, he’s more tired now than he was before trying to rest so he gives up on all hopes of a nap. Sleep clearly isn’t his thing today, so he decides to try doing something productive to get his head on straight instead like a taking a walk.

Usually, he’d call up Harry for that sort of thing. He has been Louis’ go-to person since he was nine. There’s never been anything Louis couldn’t talk to him about so it’s weird not having the words or the courage to talk to him about what used to be the simplest thing in the world. Them.

He has no real destination in mind as he drags himself through the city, just that his feet take him down all the streets near Liam’s flat and somehow or another, every one of them leads to Harry’s. At first, he thinks it’s just him being delirious from lack of sleep, and he is. But really, Louis just misses him like crazy. And sadly, wasting the afternoon strolling through the city trying to come up with what to say to him isn’t going to change that, but taking their friends’ advice by biting the bullet and talking to him just might.

Louis turned his phone off forever ago and left it at Liam’s, so he cuts his walk short and heads back in that direction. He still doesn’t have any sort of plan when he arrives, but he realizes he better come up with one and fast when Liam runs to catch the door opening before Louis can even step through it.

“Uh… Hi?” Louis greets him frowning at the mixture of alarm and apology in his eyes when he tries to go inside again.

“I tried texting you, but.” Liam says it so low that Louis almost misses it completely, his frown deepening as he tries peering past Liam crowding the narrow space in the doorway. “Sorry,” he whispers, pulling the door open the rest of the way and stepping back to give Louis a full view of his best friend sitting on the sofa clutching a giant container of what must be soup and looking not too impressed with him right now.  

It’s one of those tough life moments for Louis where he’s forced to acknowledge the fact they aren’t kids anymore. He can’t hide up in his room and have his mother lie and say he can’t come out to play, though he definitely still tried it today with Niall and Liam. Unfortunately, this can’t be fixed by giving Harry sweets or one of his favorite toys to make up for it and say sorry. They’re way past that now, and this is a lot more serious than one of them getting annoyed with the other or the two of them arguing over something dumb like who ran the fastest in a race to get to their tree. These are real, adult feelings that they have to talk through, and Louis has a feeling it’s not going to be easy.

*

Harry had released a small sigh of relief upon seeing Louis and finally having confirmation with his own two eyes that his best friend is indeed okay. Niall had said so, and Harry didn’t think Niall was lying to him, you know, _again_ , but here Louis is right where Niall said he was looking just as anxious and guilty as he should be for pulling… whatever the hell this is.

He and Louis lock eyes from across the flat. There must be something in Harry’s expression giving away just how annoyed he is because Louis quickly drops his gaze, suddenly finding his fingernails quite interesting. Liam lightly claps him on the shoulder and grabs his keys off the hook and the two of them start whispering again in the doorway. About what, Harry has no idea, but his best friend looks absolutely terrified being left alone with just him when Liam hugs him tight around the neck before stepping out of his flat and shutting them both inside it.

For a moment, Louis stares at the door almost as if he’d like to follow Liam through it. He doesn’t. Perhaps he finally realizes running won’t to make this go away because he takes a deep breath, slowly lets it out, and then faces Harry again.

He walks over to the sofa still looking just as incredible as he did the night before in that infamous blue shirt of his, though it’s obvious he hasn’t slept much if at all. His eyes are tired and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth the way it always is whenever he’s nervous about something or he has fucked up. In this case, he’s probably feeling a bit of both. Harry could certainly wring his neck right about now. But, even so, the urge to just kiss him and forget this entire thing ever happened is so much stronger. Honestly, he’s practically already half-forgiven. Even before he sits down next to Harry and offers him this small, tentative, little grin that’s barely even there but wakes every butterfly inside his stomach that had finally settled from last night.

“Hey,” Louis says, breaking the weird silence hanging between them. Harry says it back, watching Louis’ bottom lip turn white from how hard he’s chewing it. “It’s nice to see you.”

Harry’s brow furrows at that. It’s such a weird thing for him to say to someone who just spent the whole morning tracking him down.

“Is it?” Harry blinks at him in confusion.

It was a genuine question. Harry really didn’t mean for it to be as sarcastic as it came out but the guesses he’s a little more upset with him than he realized. Regardless of how remarkably blue his eyes look at the moment.

“…I made you some soup since you said you weren’t feeling very well,” he continues when Louis goes silent next to him with his guilty gaze aimed right at the floor. “I called Niall a little while ago to see if he wanted to go with me to drop it off for you at your step-dad’s. I guess it’s a good thing I called him. It would’ve been pretty awkward bringing soup to someone who isn’t even there. Or sick for that matter,” Harry tacks on making Louis wince.

“Haz, I’m so sorry,” he says after a while, finally meeting his gaze again. “I shouldn’t have lied to you like that or asked anyone to lie for me.”

“Then why did you?” Harry blurts out as he places the chicken soup he spent all morning making for him on Liam’s coffee table. “Why did you even leave last night? You seem perfectly fine to me.” He sees no good reason why they aren’t currently still wrapped up together in bed.

All of that came out a lot sharper than Harry intended making Louis go quiet again as he stares at his hands.

“You’re angry,” Louis begins softly, “And you have every right to be. I left in the middle of the night without saying a word and that was- It was wrong.”

“Yeah, well, most men I care about have a tendency of running out on me at some point or another. I guess I should’ve seen it coming,” he mutters. That was painful for Harry to even say out loud and Louis’ stricken expression makes him instantly regret it. He doesn’t want to pick a fight with his best friend. That’s not why he came here. And what Louis was saying before being interrupted sounded like the start to an apology, and Harry would like to hear the rest of it. “That wasn’t very fair, Lou. You’re nothing like Evan. I don’t even know why I said that. I’m sorry.”

Harry stops talking after that, hoping the silence paired with his own sincere apology will prompt Louis to continue giving his. His best friend rests his forearms on his knees and Harry watches his shoulders rise and fall with another deep inhale. When he’s ready to talk again, it isn’t an apology like Harry was expecting.

“It’s okay. I think I actually deserved that. And, I’m glad you said it, H, because we need to talk.” He slides one hand on top of Harry’s and gives it a light squeeze. Ordinarily, a little touch like that would make Harry ecstatic and have him so giddy he’d smile about it for hours just like last night, but it doesn’t feel like that today. Weirdly enough, when Louis lets go, it feels like some kind of a goodbye. “Harry…” he says softly. “When you say men you care about... what do you mean exactly? Care about how?”

It feels like a trick question somehow. Like there’s a right answer to it, but it’s not the one that Harry’s thinking. And the way Louis’ looking at him right now says he already knows full well what that is.

Harry doesn’t want to say the wrong thing here but he doesn’t want the way he feels to be misconstrued by him being too vague either. Not when he has a sneaking suspicion that the two of them being vague about their feelings for each other is what got them here to begin with. And at this point, if Louis knows, then he knows. It doesn’t change a thing.

“The men I care about are typically men I also happen to love,” Harry answers. “You, being one of them.” Harry fits their hands together again and Louis looks down at them with caution.

“Love how? As- As friends?”

Harry rolls his eyes, almost laughing at how ridiculous and unnecessary this all is. “Of course not as _friends,_ Louis. I’m _in love_ with you, which you already know,” Harry points out. “You must, otherwise you wouldn’t be dancing around me saying it.”

Harry hasn’t exactly been very discreet about it. True, he hadn’t said the words until just now, but it’s not like it was some big secret. He’s honestly surprised Louis hadn’t realized it before.

“So, is that what this is about, Lou? You taking off and lying about where you are? Having fucking food poisoning?” It certainly wasn’t Louis’ best plan. Though, he used to pull the same sort of shit when they would get upset with each other as kids and then have his mum lie and say he couldn’t come outside. “Look, I get that you’re a little freaked out,” Harry says in a much gentler tone while squeezing Louis’ hand in his. “This is new for both of us and you’ve never really been in a relationship before, but-”

“Harry, that’s just it. We’re _not_ in a relationship,” he snaps and yanks his hand away. “We’ve _never_ been in one. And, sure, I admit that I made up some bullshit about having food poisoning, but I’m not the only one who’s been lying here.” At first Harry has no idea what he’s even talking about but he quickly figures it out when his best friends quirks an accusatory eyebrow at him. “I think it’s kind of funny how Liam and Niall have just been _so_ busy lately. It’s almost as if something doesn’t want them hanging out with us every time we’re together. Or, maybe it’s just some _one_.”

His first instinct is to deny everything but there’s no point if he’s already been found out.

“Alright,” Harry concedes. “You caught me. I lied a bit.”

“A _bit_?” Louis scoffs. “Um, you took me on a _date_ last night, Harry. One that I don’t actually remember agreeing to.”

“Okay, so I lied a lot. But, I only did it because I just wanted to be with you and spend time with you,” he frowns. “Is that so horrible?”

“No, Haz, of course not,” Louis sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing at his temples. “You wanting to spend time with me is great. That makes me so incredibly happy, but when it’s the way we’ve _always_ spent time together,” he explains. “It’s a completely different thing when it’s because you want to _be_ with me. You’ve got to know that’s never going to happen for us, H.”

Harry _doesn’t_ know that because it isn’t true. All he sees when he looks at his best friend is them being in each other’s lives forever just like they’ve always planned, except now it looks a bit different because they’ll be together as a couple. And all he heard out of that little speech Louis just gave is somebody who’s terrified and trying his best to fix something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

“Why not, Louis?” Harry asks softly. “I think it could happen just fine. Because we both know that you want to be with me too.”

Like magic, suddenly Louis has nothing to say. He’s back to staring at his hands, his mouth opening and closing over and over again like he’d like to dispute that but can’t. That’s all Harry needs to know that they’ll be fine. Just as soon as his idiot best friend pulls his head out of his arse and stops worrying so much about what _could_ or _might_ happen to them and just let it.

Harry stands up from the sofa when he realizes they’re not getting anywhere with this right now and Louis’ face turns ghost white. “W-Where are you going?” he asks, his wide eyes fluttering closed when Harry bends to press a lingering kiss to the top of his head.

“Home,” Harry answers. “You’re welcome to come too whenever you’d like. Enjoy the soup. It’s your favorite. See you when you’re done with your crisis.”

“Haz, you don’t really want this,” Louis calls after him once he reaches to door. “You don’t want me. This is just- I don’t know. A phase because of what happened with Evan.”

Harry grins to himself because he used to cry himself to sleep over what happened with Evan, not realizing that him leaving along with all the others who came before him is the whole reason he and Louis found their way to one another. That’s not called a phase. It’s fate.

“I know what I want,” Harry tells him. “I’ll be here when you do too.”


	6. Chapter 6

“ _I’m so fucked_.” Louis doesn’t even lift his face out of the sofa cushion to say it but Liam still manages to hear.

“I sure hope you mean figuratively,” he mumbles from his armchair making Louis turn his head just to glare at him. And Niall who flops down _on_ Louis’ feet with a giant bowl of chicken and wild rice soup.

“Of course he means figuratively,” Niall answers. “Look at him. He looks miserable.”

“Maybe that has nothing to do with my sex life and everything to do with you _sitting on top of me_ ,” Louis snaps, wiggling one leg free to kick at his friend while his other friend chastises them both for almost spilling soup on his sofa. “Who invited you anyway, _traitor_?”

“That name didn’t sting the first eight-hundred times you used it and I invited myself,” Niall informs him. “I figured you’d be well into crisis mode by now _and_ I knew Haz made soup. I’m just here to enjoy the show.”

“I greatly dislike you right now,” Louis murmurs.

“Well, I know you certainly don’t _love_ me. Word on the street is that’s reserved for your boyfriend _,_ ” he sniggers right before Louis kicks at him again and makes him yelp.

“Harry is _not_ my boyfriend.”

“Says _you_ maybe,” Niall scoffs. “What the hell do you think you two have been doing all this time?”

“Fucking. Hanging out. Driving each other mad as always. _More_ fucking,” Louis lists off on his fingers.

“…So… a relationship?” Niall concludes making Louis bury his face in the cushion again to groan until Liam comes to his defense.

“Oh, leave him alone.”

“Bless you,” Louis sighs glad that someone other than him finds Niall annoying.

“Don’t thank me. I’m totally with Ni on this. You two are definitely dating. I just didn’t want you kicking him again and ruining my furniture.”

Louis really shouldn’t be surprised since apparently _nobody_ is on his side.

He wants his mother here. She’d be on Louis’ side _and_ she’d know what to do. On second thought, scratch that. She’d be no help at all either. She used to ask him about Harry and when they were going to figure their shit out up until the time she died which Louis always took to be a longstanding joke between them, however now, he’s wondering if perhaps she knew something he didn’t the whole time.

“This is so dumb,” he loudly complains to no one in particular. It just makes him feel better to whine a bit. “I can’t believe he just left and was all ‘ _figure out what you want, Louis,’_ like that’s actually how this works.”

“Isn’t it?” Liam frowns.

“ _No_ , it isn’t,” Louis snaps, sitting up and accidentally jostling Niall and _Louis’_ get-well-soon soup he’s still slurping down. “And he’s being just as useless as you two.”

Louis finally got up the nerve to text him an hour ago asking if they could talk about this and all he got back in response was ‘ _Did that already. No thanks_.’

“Maybe I should try texting him again. Tell him how much we really need to discuss this more,” he sighs, though he’s not sure what that’s going to achieve when Harry seems perfectly fine with the subject.  

“Yes. Communication is good,” Liam agrees.

“Really? You think it’s a good idea?”

Niall immediately answers no, but Liam still seems supportive. “Er- Well, I think it’s worth a try.”

Louis nods as he grabs his phone off the coffee table. He releases a deep breath, gearing up to text his best friend as he has probably done ten billion times before in his life, but it just feels so different now. He’s actually fucking _nervous_ about it.

“Okay. This is it. I’m going to text him,” Louis decides, starting his message with a friendly greeting this time instead of the panicked and admittedly, slightly demanding request he sent earlier.

‘ _Hey there, Haz. I just wanted to check in again and see how you are. I’m doing much better than before I think_.’

It takes a few minutes, but eventually he gets a response. Not that it’s much of one. ‘ _Okay_. _Good_.’

Louis’ brow furrows at the two-word response before diving in again. ‘ _Great. That’s wonderful we’re on the same page. So, listen. Since we’re on the same page and all and we’ve both had time to think it over, how about we sit down and try talking through this mess again._ _Please_?’

He reads it out to his friends before sending it, watching the dialogue bubbles dance on his screen for over a minute only to receive another stubborn, short response of ‘ _nope.’_

Nope?

Louis lets out a groan, slinging his phone in the general direction of the coffee table, already over whatever game this is they’re playing that Louis is so obviously losing.

“What’d he say?” Liam winces.

“Clearly nothing good,” Niall laughs under his breath.

“ _Nope_ ,” Louis reads aloud after crawling under the table to retrieve his phone. “That’s what he said to me after I took my time and energy to construct that incredibly thoughtful text, and he answers it with one word that’s not even a real fucking word. And had the audacity to add a fucking period at the end of it. Like, what even is that?”

“ _That_ , my friend, is still slightly pissed, kind of love you, kind of want to murder you, passive aggressive relationship shit,” Niall smirks. “I’ve got a phone full of texts like that. You’re being _trained_. Welcome to my world.”

Louis doesn’t want to be in that world or _trained_. Whatever the hell that means. He likes his old world where his best friend just straight up tells him when he’s being a dick and wants to murder him because that’s what friends are for.

“ _Okay._ So, how do I make it stop so he’ll talk to me normally again?” Louis asks, momentarily going with this whole ‘relationship’ theory even though it doesn’t really apply to them because Harry’s always been a stubborn little shit.

“Mmm, it depends on the situation... In your case I’d say cutting the bullshit and just accepting the simple fact that you two belong together just might do the trick. But what do I know?” he shrugs with a grin.

“In other words, get your shit together,” Liam translates.

That is _so_ much easier said than done.

*

As it turns out, even Liam Payne’s kind hospitality has limits which may be a good thing considering Louis hasn’t slept, eaten, bathed, or even brushed his teeth since yesterday. He couldn’t stay there forever, especially since his hiding place had already been found out thanks to Niall so Liam turned him away with his half-eaten container of soup also courtesy of Niall, and a tight hug from both of them for luck.

He certainly needs it.

A warm, massively overdue shower makes him feel marginally human again. As does the bowl of homemade chicken soup he heats up afterwards and takes to his bed. It’s delicious just like he knew it would be because Harry made it, and it instantly reminds Louis of all the other times in the past he really was ill and this soup was the only thing to make him feel less miserable. There was even a time a few years ago when Louis had actual food poisoning from some new sushi place he just had to try. Harry went along just to humor him even though he hates seafood and suffered through two giant seaweed salads while Louis happily sampled every roll the restaurant had…and he paid the price for it with his head in the toilet bowl for days afterwards. He’d never been so sick in all his life and Harry was right there at his gross and disgusting side the whole time. He thinks maybe it was thanks for the time Harry caught strep when they were kids and Louis would crawl through his window to sit with him every single day afterschool. Despite Harry hardly being able to speak and despite him being contagious as fuck.

It’s memories like that that warm Louis’ heart from the inside out and make him see what everyone else does whenever they look at him and Harry because the two of them have loved each other since the very start. Why else would they do dumb shit together like sneaking out in the middle of the night to eat cold s’mores in a tree or swear to always, always be friends no matter what and seal their vow with _spit_ of all things.

They’ve honored that germ-filled promise to each other their whole lives so far, and deep down, Louis knows they always will. If he lets himself, he can even envision that friendship turning into so much more. And, it’s not like spending their lives together wouldn’t be the best thing in this world because it would. Nine-year-old Louis would be fucking thrilled to know he gets his best mate for life, but the reality is things aren’t always that simple. It’s so easy to get caught up in life and how complicated it can be, things don’t always go to plan no matter how good the intention, and honestly, it’s those two little boys from the tree that Louis doesn’t want to lose in all that. It’s his absolute favorite part of them. He doesn’t understand how Harry’s so ready to dive in and isn’t equally as terrified of losing them too.

He’s too lazy to take his empty soup bowl to the kitchen so he places it on the bedside table instead. He then curls up in a bed that has always been just his, but now it feels very empty. Sleeping alone has never bothered him before. After all these years, Louis actually prefers it, but he can’t ignore the fact that lately anytime he doesn’t fall asleep holding Harry, he wakes up cuddling his pillow instead. And whenever the scent of laundry detergent filters through his lungs, Louis is greatly disappointed that it wasn’t Harry’s cologne or his shampoo.

If Louis didn’t know any better, he’d say he has actually started to miss the idiot. Not that missing his best friend is anything new for Louis. When they were little, going just a measly couple of days without seeing him felt like the end of the world, so much so that he began dreading any holiday or occasion that required Harry to go visit his grandparents for a bit. An increase in age had no effect on Louis’ need to be near him. Louis was already a grown man living on his own when his stepfather and siblings traded in the big house for the much smaller one everyone now lives in, and it still felt like a piece of Louis’ heart had been ripped out. Partly because that house reminded Louis so much of his mother, but mostly because home had always been wherever she and Harry were, and now that it wasn’t anymore, he felt lost. It’s not often Louis feels that way anymore, but he sure feels lost right now wishing Harry were here.

The constant need to talk to him and laugh with him about dumb shit has been there since Louis was a child, but it’s so much worse now that Louis went and fell in love with him. Now, all he wants is for Harry to be here and kiss him and make him be the stupid big spoon because he knows Louis loves holding him close, even if he’s never said it out loud. Somehow, he knows everything about Louis. Inside and out. Always has. And Louis suspects he also knew that forcing him to do all this big thinking and missing alone would bring Louis to the only conclusion left to draw from all this. Without him – _them_ , he can’t breathe.   

Louis reaches for his phone, not sure if he’s more annoyed or impressed that Harry’s not even here and somehow _still_ managed to get his way. It’s actually kind of scary if Louis thinks about it.

‘ _Oi_. _Did you just train me_?’ Louis types out, fondly rolling his eyes when Harry answers him because he can practically see the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

‘ _Depends. Are you still pretending you’re not in love with me?_ ’

A small grin tugs at Louis’ lips, feeling his stomach flutter at the thought of his best friend and feeling okay with it for the first time. More than really.

‘ _So, say we do try this…’_ Louis sends a minute later to test the waters _. ‘…Then what?_ ’ It’s the same question Louis asked back when this all began, and coincidentally, Harry gives him the exact same answer.

Well, almost.

‘ _Then nothing_ , _babe_ ,’ he sends back. ‘ _Same as before_ Xx’

 

Louis is standing outside of Harry’s flat so fast he didn’t even bother with letting him know he was on the way. Oddly enough, Harry doesn’t look surprised to see him there when he opens the door to let out the sweet, chocolatey scent coming from the kitchen. He leans against the threshold and consults his phone for the time, looking every bit as beautiful as he ever has in nothing but joggers and an old Adidas t-shirt that looks extremely familiar. Fucking _thief_.

“ _Wow._ Three whole hours,” he teases. “ _Quite_ the life crisis there.”

“Oh, shut up,” Louis tells him though he can’t wipe the smile off his face as he steps a bit closer to him, once again noticing the delicious scent wafting out of his flat. “You made brownies?”

“I actually just took them out of the oven. Figured I’d have company soon to help me eat them,” Harry smirks, squeezing tight when one of Louis’ hands slips into his. “Looks like I was right. You know, _again_.”

Harry may be his boyfriend now in addition to being his best friend, but the urge to strangle him a bit certainly hasn’t gone anywhere. Same as before, just as promised. “You are _so_ annoying,” Louis chuckles as they come chest to chest and his free hand slips into Harry’s hair. “And yet, I love you anyway,” he whispers, feeling Harry sigh into the press of their lips.

 

Summer – Two Years Later

Harry peeks out of his bedroom window as he adjusts his tie for the millionth time even though everyone who has been by to see him in the past twenty minutes has assured him it looks perfect. He’s sure they’re all right, but he’s so full of nerves and anxious energy right now that his hands have to be doing something or else he’s going to lose it.

From here, he can see all of his and Louis’ guests making their way through the rows of chairs to take their seats. Their best men are currently walking to their respective places as well; Niall on the right side of the flowery altar arch where Louis’ family members are all filing in, and Liam on the left with Harry’s. He smiles to himself seeing their loved ones split up that way. They’ve all known each other for so long that everyone really could’ve just been lumped in together. They have always considered themselves one big family anyway, but today will finally make it official.

Harry still can’t even believe they’re really here. The planning of this day has been in the works for months. Eighteen years really if he counts all the way back from the day he and Louis met. Their fates were sealed long before they even realized it. Back when Louis would sneak in through this very window to talk Harry into whatever big, adventurous idea that happened to strike him that day. Or, when Harry would listen to him explain his big idea for approximately two seconds before agreeing whole-heartedly because he never actually cared what they were doing, as long as they were doing it together.

Not much has changed since then. Louis’ brain still runs a billion miles per minute and churns out the most random, yet completely ingenious ideas, like getting married here under the tall oak tree that’s still standing proud after all this time. They’re still best friends who do everything together, Harry would still follow him anywhere, and in a few minutes, they’re going to vow to belong to each other for forever, except this time they’ll do it with rings rather than the spit.

He’s so fucking excited about that that his hands drop his perfectly centered tie and start fidgeting with his boutonniere instead because people always go on about how amazing it is to marry their best friend, but how many people can say they’ve known that person for their _entire_ lives? He’s so glad that he and Louis had the privilege.

They’re so close to ‘I do’ that Harry’s pacing the old hardwood of his room, just as eager to see Louis and just be near him as he was as a child. They’ve got less than fifteen minutes left until the ceremony, but Harry can’t wait that long before at least talking to him.

He grabs his phone from the window ledge, hoping that wherever Louis is right now in his sister’s old room that he’s got his phone with him.

‘ _My hands are shaking like crazy. What are you doing_? _I can’t wait to see you_.’

Harry’s pacing doesn’t let up as he waits for his fiancé’s reply. Neither do the nervous tremors that run all the way down to the tips of his fingers as Louis’ dialogue bubbles start dancing on his screen a few seconds later.

‘ _Error: The groom you’re trying to reach has fled the scene. Please try again later, thanks_.’

Harry cackles once his stomach returns to its normal spot and his heart starts fucking beating again since his idiot fiancé is, of course, joking about leaving him groomless for a second time in his life. At least he better be anyway.

‘ _Ha ha. I love you and all, but don’t make me have to kill you before our wedding. Li hates blood and I don’t want to ruin my suit_ ,’ he types back, cackling even harder when Louis instantly replies.

‘ _Oh, yeah?_ _How would you do it?_ ’

‘ _Cake knife_ ,’ Harry tells him. ‘ _Straight through the heart_. _Boutonniere and all_.’

‘ _Savage yet poetic. I like it_ ,’ Louis sends followed by a more serious message a few seconds later. ‘ _Feeling nervous, love?’_

Harry has been on pins and needles all morning. He hardly even slept last night. ‘ _Kind of? More excited than anything I think.’_  He’s never been readier for anything in his life. ‘ _You?_ ’

‘ _Excited to marry you, but not nervous. Love you too much for that._ ’

His stomach has pretty much been fluttering nonstop since he woke up. Since Louis proposed to him over a year ago. Since he was eight years old sneaking out of this very house just to be with him. He reads over the message again and again, wondering if that fluttery feeling has an end. He really hopes it doesn’t. ‘ _I love you too, Louis. So much_.’

Just then, there’s a knock at Harry’s door announcing that it’s time to go. His heart skips several beats realizing this is it, and then skips several more when he receives a new message.

‘ _Meet me outside in a few minutes?_ _You know the place. Xx’_

And yeah, Harry knows the place. ‘ _I’ll be there. Xx’_

Harry is already standing under the low hanging branches of their tree when Louis takes his turn down their makeshift aisle to join them. They must have been here together a million times before, but it’s never felt as perfect as this. It’s a far cry from cold s’mores and failed kisses, however Harry’s heart has never been so full watching his best friend become his husband. And when they kiss this time, they get it right.

*******

**Author's Note:**

> I had the time of my life writing this! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! Thank you so much to Andthetreewashappy for coming up with such a wonderful and fun fic idea, and also to FallingLikeThis because she's so wonderful and amazing :D
> 
> Please share this [ rebloggable fic post](http://all-these-larrythings.tumblr.com/post/174893937856/oh-were-in-love-arent-we-30k-by) if you liked it <3


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